


Fever Bright

by krikkiter68



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: 70s cartoons, A/U, BDSM, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Chicago references, Childbirth, Chocolate Brownies, Conflict, Cunnilingus, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Dogging Reference, Epic Hangovers, Excessive Drinking, Explicit Sex, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Fighting, Fisting, Fun with Chocolate, Glam Rock, Great 1990s indie music, Hair-pulling, Hallowe'en Fancy Dress, Heartbreak, Homophobic Language, Humiliation, Ill-Advised Cocktails, Inappropriate touching, Jealousy, Kittenbirth, Kittens, Low Self-Esteem, Mildly Dubious Consent, New new Doctor, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Punishment, References to Monty Python, Reluctant Attraction, Romance, Rule 63, Shower Sex, Spanking, Squirting, Terri/y walking in on people, The Rocky Horror Picture Show references, Threesome - F/F/F, Threesome - F/F/M, Tribadism, Unrequited Love, Verbal Abuse, Vomiting, Walnut Whip, Xena:Warrior Princess references, bridal dress shopping, family tensions, fluffy fluff, long hot summer, role-play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2018-02-13 11:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 41,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2148285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krikkiter68/pseuds/krikkiter68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie MacDonald can't stand Olivia Reeder.  And she definitely doesn't fancy her...</p><p>(Thanks to stackcats for inspiring me.  You rock!  :) )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

‘Thank fuck it’s Friday!’ Jamie muttered as she kicked off her shoes and collapsed backwards onto her double bed. It had been a fuckin’ awful week, she thought, staring up at the high ceiling. Cock-ups left, right and fuckin’ centre. DoSAC looks like a fuckin’ aeroplane hanger full of stiff dicks right now, she mused. OK, she’d raised a smile walking past Malina’s office yesterday, she thought, when she overheard Mal tearing into Nick Murray:

‘An’ ye bombed at fuckin’ ‘Question Time’ again, didn’t ye? Good job it’s nae fuckin’ December, ‘cause if it was I’d rip yer fuckin’ bollocks off, thread a decorative fuckin’ ribbon between ‘em and hang them on mai fuckin’ Christmas tree…’

Apart from that she hadn’t had a single fuckin’ laugh all week. Terry had completely failed to stop the leak of Danielle Miller’s expense claim – fuck’s sake, it was only thirty-one pounds eighty but the right-wing twats at the Mail had crucified the party in their Wednesday issue. There was the aforementioned fuckin’ debacle at Question Time, when Peta Mannion had all but slaughtered that useless bastard Nick and nailed him to the door of Number 10. And then, there had been the small matter of Olivia Reeder’s skirt. Otherwise known as the huge matter of Olivia Reeder’s tiny fuckin’ skirt. Jesus. That posh wee tart had some fuckin’ nerve.

‘Oi, you! Yeah, you, Head Prefect at Cheltenham Ladies’ College! What the fuck are ye playin’ at?’ Jamie had yelled.

Olivia, startled at the sudden one-woman commotion, turned to face her whilst Glenda stared pointedly at her computer screen. 

‘Erm…hi, Jamie, is something wrong?’ Olivia said, her voice quivering slightly.

‘Ye plannin’ to stand on the verge of the M25 making a bukkake flick with twenty thousand truckers? I can practically see yer fuckin’ minge!’ Jamie snarled, trying not to stare at Olivia’s very long, slender legs in black lace tights beneath that little navy frill of a skirt.

Olivia glanced downwards and then looked down at Jamie, sulkily. Christ, Jamie thought, not that fuckin’ stupid pout again.

‘The skirt? It’s not that short. I dunno, maybe it shrunk in the wash…’ she said, twirling a section of her long, curly dark hair around a forefinger.

‘Shut it! It’s nae acceptable, OK? I want a decent fuckin’ length from now on, not somethin’ that shows yer knickers!’

Jamie remembered staring into Olivia’s (big, expressive) eyes for just a little too long. She could have kicked herself.

‘And you, Admin Boy, stop gawpin’ and get back to fuckin’ work!’ she’d yelled at Robin, who’d visibly gulped, brushed back his lank blond fringe and retreated back to his desk.

Christ, Olivia wound her up without even trying. That fuckin’ Miss Goody-Two-Shoes beanpole loser, with her stupid wee geek glasses and her over-sized satchel and her Wonderwoman comics. Wee skank, too. Everybody knew she’d spent the Christmas do being banged senseless in the staff car park by that rugby-playing toff Ed Messinger. And all the showers she’s had with Danielle playing hunt-the-fingers after their girly squash games. She’d fuck anyone. And her crawling to Mal. Bet she wants Mal to dress up as a head mistress, bend her over a desk so her wee skirt rides all the way up, pull her fancy knickers down and spank her pert fuckin’ arse… 

Jamie felt a familiar warmth spreading and pooling between her legs as she angrily shook her head, trying to dislodge the image of Olivia getting spanked and loving it. Fuck’s sake, she thought, I don’t fancy her. She’s wetter than the inside of her knickers. 

She rolled off the bed and headed to the bathroom. I’m going tae pull tonight, she thought. Been so long since I’ve been fuckin’ fisted, I’m in danger of healing up altogether, she thought. 

Jamie stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower, her skin prickling with need. She closed her eyes and turned her face up to the streaming jets of water, letting them drench her curls. Her fingers trembled across the smooth skin of her inner thigh, and she wanted to thrust them inside her and curl them upwards, but she resisted; she wanted to stay hungry tonight.

Stepping out again, she wrapped herself in a towel and started blasting her hair with the hairdryer, until her dripping locks transformed into bouncy black shoulder length curls. She stood naked in front of the mirror, and cupped her full breasts whilst practising an Elvis sneer. Fuckin’ irresistible, she thought. What battle garb am I gonna fuckin’ wear?

She slipped on a pair of black French knickers and a matching balcony bra that showcased her full tits to stunning effect. Next, she selected a simple silky black vest top, with tight, tight jeans that showed off her magnificent curvy arse, and a black leather biker’s jacket. A pair of lethally sharp high heels finished off the look. Simple, but effective. The lasses were gonna love her tonight.

She made up her face, slicking sky-blue powder on her eyelids to match her stunning big blue eyes. Next, she rimmed her eyes with thick black kohl eyeliner, then applied layers of mascara on her lashes. And then, as a finishing touch, she took the very expensive, deep red lipstick from her shoulder bag, and outlined her lips in a perfect Cupid’s bow. She grinned, and pouted at the mirror. She was ready.

Jamie hailed a taxi to take her straight to the club, and handed her jacket into the cloakroom, smiling and winking at the pretty young woman behind the desk, who blushed. She looked around in wonder as she stepped into the dancehall. God, these women are fuckin’ beautiful, she thought. She weaved through the crowd to the bar, and ordered a bottle of beer. 

The music thudded around her, and she watched as couples, then groups made their way onto the dancefloor, spinning and bumping and grinding against each other. Jamie narrowed her eyes, taking a swig from the bottle and deciding which ones she’d make a play for. Distracted, she started when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned around, and her mouth dropped open.


	2. Chapter 2

Olivia was standing in front of her, swaying and grinning foolishly. She was wearing a corseted Gothic black lace mini-dress and her fishnet-clad legs looked impossibly long. Her hair, wilder than ever, hung all the way down her back. She was over six feet tall in her heels, and Jamie found herself practically at eye level with her tits. She was clearly drunk. Christ, Jamie thought, what does she fuckin’ look like? 

‘What the fuck are ya doin’ here?’ Jamie snapped.

‘Hi Jamie. Thanks for that charming greeting. I fancied doing some late-night shopping. Or some gardening. Y’know, the usual stuff you do in a women’s club,’ Olivia said, and giggled, batting her over-long false eyelashes at her.

Jamie scowled back. God help me, she thought, the slag looks really pretty tonight. An’ her tits are bigger than I thought.

To Jamie’s annoyance, Olivia stooped down and rested her elbow on her shoulder.

‘So, do you want a drink then?’

‘Nah. Got a beer.’

‘Suit yourself,’ Olivia said, and started weaving her way over to the bar. 

Jamie stood, arms crossed, glancing around. She wondered if she should wander off and start her industrial-strength flirting with one of the many beautiful women surrounding her, then found herself distracted at the sight of Olivia leaning on the bar, her long fingers tapping along in time to the thumping music. She was leaning forward, the hem of her dress riding up, and Jamie found herself staring at her incredibly long legs. They look great, Jamie mused. Bet they’d look even better locked round my fuckin’ shoulders as I pound into her with a huge strap-on as she writhes and screams and comes underneath me, over and over again…

Jamie gulped, trying to distract herself from the unexpectedly arousing image. She turned around and stared at the crowd, her gaze landing on a stunning blonde in a green halter-neck dress. Draining her bottle, she placed it on a nearby table and stalked over to her.

‘Hi sweetheart,’ she murmured with a glittering smile, ‘bit noisy in here, eh? D’ye fancy goin’ somewhere a bit quieter?’

The woman smiled back, sweetly.

‘That’s a nice offer, but won’t your girlfriend mind?’

‘Mai WHAT?!’ Jamie said, dumbstruck. The woman laughed.

‘Don’t give me that! I saw the way you were looking at her just now,’ she said, gesturing towards the bar. ‘You’re crazy about her!’

She patted Jamie’s arm.

‘You make a very cute couple. You’re both very lucky.’

The blonde wandered away. Jamie shivered slightly, then decided what she really needed was another drink. She strode towards the bar and up to Olivia, who was still waiting to be served.

‘Changed mai fuckin’ mind. Let’s get some shots and get absolutely fuckin’ hammered.’

Olivia grinned at her. Jamie noticed a slight smear of her ruby lipstick on her shiny white front teeth. I'm almost close enough to lick that off, she thought. 

‘Lipstick on yer fuckin’ teeth,’ she muttered. ‘Ye might want tae sort that out,’ she said, pointing at Olivia’s mouth.

Olivia ran her tongue over her teeth. Jamie’s face flushed slightly.

‘Gone?’

‘Gone. Hey, barman!’ Jamie said. She put her forefingers between her lips and emitted a whistle so piercing that a nearby group of women stopped chatting and stared at her.

‘Better,’ Jamie said as the young man turned and gawped at her. ‘Good evening, laddie,’ she said. ‘Can we have 10 vodka shots? Do it quickly and Long Tall Sally here’ll let ye ride her ‘round the nearest Waitrose car park.’

‘Jamie!’ Olivia huffed. Jamie reached into her bag for her purse.

‘Well, it wouldnae be the first fuckin’ time, would it love?’ she said, her smile slightly dangerous.

‘How the hell did you hear about that?’ Olivia said.

‘Never ye mind,’ said Jamie, as she collected the change. ‘Let’s go and find a fuckin’ table, eh?’

 

‘Jesus,’ Jamie said later, ye’re knockin’ them back a bit aren’t ye?’

‘I can take it,’ Olivia slurred, ‘I’ve, I’ve got a high tolerensssh of alcolhole.’ She giggled. ‘Ooh, that sshounded rude.’

‘Ye fuckin' mad drunken bitch,’ Jamie snapped. She started as she felt Olivia’s fingers start to twine themselves gently in her curls.

‘Go on,’ Olivia said, ‘Have another one wittth me. I’m lonely.’

Jamie gazed at the two full shot glasses. Oh well, a couple more couldn’t fuckin’ hurt, she thought. The colours of the bottles at the bar looked beautiful, glowing against the dim light. She gazed at Olivia, who was somehow far more attractive than she’d been three hours ago, and Olivia’s eyes, fever-bright, looked back into hers.

‘Oh what the fuck,’ she said, and gulped back the vodka. Olivia applauded.

‘Come and danshhh with me,’ she said, standing up unsteadily then pulling on Jamie’s arm.

Jamie got to her feet, stumbling slightly, and Olivia led her onto the dancefloor.

 

‘What’s this track?’ Jamie asked later, her face pressed into Olivia’s wild mane of hair.

‘Strict Machine by Goldfrapp. Like it?’

‘Aye, it’s fuckin’ great. Sounds like she’s going like the clappers,’ she said, spinning Olivia round. Olivia’s hands stroked down her back.

‘Ah, I wouldn’t know aaanything about that sort of thing,’ Olivia said, and snorted with laughter.

‘Daft fuckin’ cow. Shall I go to the bar again after this one?’

‘Ahhh, why the hell not?’


	3. Chapter 3

Jamie opened her eyes to the darkness of her own bedroom, with a monstrous pain kicking against the inside of her skull. She groaned as she turned over. Fuck, she thought, waking up was a really fuckin’ bad idea. She turned on the bedside light, and recoiled as she spotted a person-shaped bulge in the duvet.

‘Owww…’ said a very familiar voice, ‘that hurts…’

Jamie grabbed hold of a section of duvet and yanked it backwards. Olivia, dressed only in her bra and knickers, recoiled from the light like a vampire in a Hammer Horror film, shielding her eyes with the back of a long hand.

‘What the fuck did you do that for?!’ she whimpered.

Olivia’s face was streaked with melted kohl, one false set of eyelashes still attached, a long lipstick smear on one cheek, her hair lying matted and tangled across the pillows. Jamie laughed, flinching at the resulting pain.

‘Jesus. Ye’re fuckin’ face. Ye look like Frank N’ Furter’s younger sister, after she’s been humped underwater by Brad and Janet in that fuckin’ swimming pool.’ 

‘So, actually pretty good then. Thanks,’ muttered Olivia.

Jamie gritted her teeth and moaned as a fresh, pulsing wave of pain seared through her head.

‘Oh…fuckin’ hell! Christ, fuckin’ English people, ye never know when tae stop drinkin’ do ye?’ 

‘You can talk! You had at least as much as I did,’ Olivia said, huffily.

‘Fuckin’ didn’t!’ Jamie snapped.

‘Oww! Don’t fucking shout, Jamie!’ 

‘I WASNAE – wasnae shoutin’, OK?’ Jamie said, holding onto her head. ‘Oh Christ! Ah’ve got the cast of Riverdance jumpin’ inside my fuckin’ skull!’ she groaned.

‘It might help if you turned the light out.’

‘That,’ Jamie said, ‘is the only fuckin’ sensible thing you’ve ever said.’

‘Oh, shut up.’

Jamie swore under her breath as she reached over and turned off the light. She collapsed back against the pillows. There was a short pause.

‘D’ye remember coming back here at all?’

‘I can’t say I do, Jamie,’ Olivia said. She sighed and turned over, facing away from Jamie.

‘All I remember is ye fallin' out of the fuckin’ taxi an’ lyin’ on the pavement with yer legs waivin’ in the air, which is pretty fuckin’ appropriate for ye,’ Jamie mused.

‘Ah. Well on a slightly related note, last night, did we…’ Olivia said, her cheeks burning. 

‘Did we fuckin’ what?’ Jamie said, irritated.

‘You know, did we…’

Jamie snorted quietly.

‘Were we bangin’ like a barn door in a fuckin’ hurricane, ye mean? Hang on…’

She sniffed her fingers, and detected ketchup, recalled bright strip lights.

‘…Nah, I don’t think so. I think we got some chips, though.’ 

A sudden wave of exhaustion passed over her, dark spots dancing before her eyes in the dim light.

‘Fuck, I’m tired. Just let me go tae fuckin’ sleep, OK?’ 

‘Suits me. Jamie…’ Olivia started.

But Jamie was already asleep and snoring gently. Olivia exhaled, turning over onto her back and staring at the light fitting in the ceiling.

 

Jamie woke some hours later, dazzled by a slanting beam of sunlight between the gap in the dark curtains. She tried to sit up, but something was lying on her, and after three attempts she gave up. Olivia’s head was resting peacefully against her right shoulder, her long arms twined round Jamie’s torso like ivy. She lowered her hand and felt it connect with a mass of soft, crumpled curls. 

For a second Jamie was tempted to push her off the bed, but found herself gazing at Olivia’s sleeping face instead. At some point, she’d obviously woken and groped her way to the bathroom and cleaned off her make-up. She had an ethereal beauty that hadn’t registered with Jamie before.

She’s a bit like somethin’ from Lord of the Rings, Jamie thought. Not one of the fuckin’ Bobbits or whatever they’re called. No, one of those what de ye call ‘em, wood fairies or…

Olivia’s lips parted in a breathy little sigh, and Jamie’s heart started beating faster. Oh fuck, Jamie thought. She’s…she’s really…

Olivia’s eyes fluttered open, slowly, and she smiled.

‘Good morning,’ she murmured.

Jamie leaned forward and kissed her. And Olivia kissed her back.


	4. Chapter 4

Jamie’s hands wandered under Olivia’s ridiculous mane of curls and across the smooth skin of her back, feeling the younger woman shudder as she trailed the pads of her fingers down her spine. She heard Olivia’s breath deepening and closed her eyes as their tongues wrestled, growled appreciatively as soft, smooth breasts pressed together, nipples pebbled against her own. Christ, she thought, it’s been far too fuckin’ long.

Olivia broke the kiss with a small gasp, gazing at Jamie, pupils blown and her eyes shining.

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re gorgeous?’ she said, breathily. Jamie grinned at her.

‘Oh, aye. Fuckin’ repeatedly.’

‘Mmm,’ Olivia responded, bending forward and kissing her again. 

Her arms twined around Jamie’s back. Jamie’s eyes flicked open as she felt slim legs tightening around her left thigh, her nostrils flaring as she caught the scent of Olivia’s crotch, burning against her.

‘Humpin’ my fuckin’ leg are ye?’ she murmured into dark curls. ‘Bitch on heat, aren’t ye?’

‘Oh God,’ Olivia muttered against her neck, between butterfly kisses, ‘I love it when you talk dirty.’

‘Yeah,’ Jamie said, ‘Thought ye fuckin’ might.’

She closed her eyes as Olivia kissed a line down her neck and across her flushed upper chest. Warm lips circled and closed on her right nipple. Jamie let out a gasp as Olivia nipped with her sharp little teeth, the shock of slight pain radiating straight to her crotch.

‘Jesus!’

She felt Olivia chuckle at that, and soft lips closed around her nipple again, a hand cupping and caressing her left breast.

‘Good, is it?’ Olivia whispered against her skin.

‘Oh, aye,’ Jamie murmured, hands twisting in Olivia’s hair. Olivia smiled as she delivered a small bite to the underside of Jamie’s breast that made her shake and curse

‘Spread your legs,’ she murmured.

Jamie did so, then yelped with surprise as Olivia took hold of her left leg and pointed it at the ceiling. Olivia’s eyes closed in pleasure as she took several of Jamie’s scarlet-tipped toes in her mouth and sucked. God help me, Jamie thought, that’s fuckin’ gorgeous.

‘God, ye’re fuckin’ kinky, aren’t ye?’ Jamie muttered, between small gasps.

‘Don’t you like it?’ Olivia said, kissing the underside of Jamie’s foot.

Oh fuck, Jamie thought. She really knows what she’s doing. I’m gonnae hate myself after this.

‘I didnae say that…oh Christ…’ Jamie said, tailing off as Olivia stroked down her thigh, further and further, until she felt the pads of her fingers fluttering against her soaked crotch.

‘Mmm. Flood alert,’ Olivia said, licking Jamie’s instep.

Jamie shuddered with pleasure as Olivia’s fingers started circling, spreading warmth through her veins like a draught of whisky. She closed her eyes and began bucking into Olivia’s touch, moaning low as two fingers invaded and stretched her. Then she started with disbelief as they were suddenly pulled out.

‘Fuck! Fuckin’ tease! Jesus!’ she hissed.

Olivia straddled Jamie, and pushed her wet, scented fingers into her mouth, silencing her. Jamie moaned, stroking them with her tongue. The fingers were replaced by Olivia’s mouth on hers, and Jamie kissed her back, savagely.

Olivia broke away, gasping for breath, her mouth reddened. She gazed down at Jamie’s body, spread out like a banquet beneath her. She gently pushed Jamie’s thighs further apart, and lowered herself until her sensitive flesh was pressed hard against Jamie’s crotch.

‘Christ, ye’re wetter than the fuckin’ Danube,’ Jamie moaned. ‘Fuck it, move.’

Olivia bit her lower lip and grasped Jamie’s thighs as she started circling her hips.

‘Sorry I don’t have a fuckin’ cock as well, sweetheart,’ Jamie ground out, her laugh coming out as a gasp.

‘You have no idea,’ Olivia gasped, ‘how much I don’t care.’

They picked up speed, grinding against each other with increasing force. Jamie grabbed hold of Olivia’s head and pulled her down for a kiss. Olivia bucked, causing Jamie to keen and moan.

‘’Christ, I’m so fuckin’ close,’ Jamie whined. ‘Harder…’

Olivia thrust against her, lips parting.

‘Oh God, I’m coming…’ she whimpered.

Jamie bit her neck, triggering her climax, and she screamed, clutching at the sheets. Jamie moaned loudly as she writhed, broke, came apart with her thighs wrapped around slender hips.

Olivia collapsed against Jamie, and lay with her head against her shoulder, breathing hard. Jamie looked up, shakily, her vision obscured by hair. She blew it out of her mouth.

‘Fuck,’ she said, when she was able to speak, ‘ye’re fuckin’ debauched, aren’t ye?’

Olivia grinned at her.

‘Something tells me you enjoyed that.’

She squeaked as Jamie turned her onto her back and kissed her, hard.


	5. Chapter 5

Olivia moaned into Jamie’s mouth, her back arching against the bed. Jamie broke off, panting slightly, the pads of her fingers starting to caress Olivia’s pebbled right nipple.

‘Up fer another round?’ Jamie said, her eyes shining.

‘Ahhh. Yeah. Why not?’

‘Good girl,’ Jamie said, lasciviously, sitting up. Olivia lifted herself up onto her elbows then twined her arms around Jamie’s back. Jamie firmly pushed her back onto the bed.

‘Oh, OK, what do you have in mind?’ Olivia said, raising her finely-arched eyebrows at Jamie.

Jamie chuckled.

‘Ye know I said I didnae have a dick? Well…I was fuckin’ lying. I bought one a couple of days ago.’

Jamie grinned, and opened her bedside drawer. Olivia’s wide eyes widened still further at the size of the object Jamie retrieved.

‘Jesus Christ, Jamie! Mal’s always going on about lubricated horse cocks – I didn’t know you had an actual replica!’ she whimpered.

‘Ah, dinnae worry yerself, it’s a double’, Jamie said.

‘Yeah, I can see that, but even so…’ Olivia said, her voice trailing off. 

Jamie stroked the shiny black silicone and shook the black leather straps until the buckles jingled, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

‘An’ this wee beauty is one of the many, many reasons God invented lube,’ she said. 

She reached back into the drawer and retrieved the lube, unscrewing the lid and spreading a liberal amount of it over the dildo until it was coated. Olivia gulped: it looked even larger wet. Jamie handed it over to her, grinning.

‘Put that inside ye,’ she said, quietly. ‘Strap yerself in and take me fer a wild ride, eh?’

‘OK, I’ll try…’

‘Good girl. Now, spread yer legs. I wanna watch…’ Jamie murmured lasciviously.

Olivia’s face flushed as she felt herself flooding: Jamie’s dirty-talking turned her on something fierce. She spread her legs and fitted one blunt end of the dildo against her, feeding it inside a fraction of an inch at a time, gritting her teeth as the head finally slid inside.

‘Jesus fuck, that looks good,’ Jamie said, breathily. ‘Slide it into yer cunt, I wanna see it splittin’ ye.’

She lay back against the pillows, her hand stroking over her breasts and down her torso. Olivia’s breath hitched as Jamie spread her legs and slid her hand over her crotch.

‘Watch,’ she murmured.

The younger woman’s mouth fell open as she watched Jamie start to stroke herself. She looked shameless and wanton, the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

‘That’s it,’ Jamie said huskily, ‘Jesus, that’s so fuckin’ sexy. Fuck yerself, ya gorgeous slut. Fill up yer soakin’ over-used cunt, ya little whore.’

She stroked faster, her gaze lingering on the huge double dildo stretching Olivia’s beautiful, rose-lipped cunt, entranced by her moans and sighs.

‘God, Jamie, I can’t even, God…’ Olivia moaned, pushing. ‘I…God, it’s in.’

Jamie took in the vision in front of her: Olivia on her back, gasping, spread obscenely wide with the formidably sized free end of the double dildo jutting from her crotch. Jamie licked her lips, then crawled towards Olivia across the bed, pressing her against the mattress as she kissed her.

‘Bet you’re like the TARDIS now, aren’t ye?’ she murmured into Olivia’s hair. ‘Bigger on the inside.’

Olivia groaned in response, partly from desire, partly because of the pun, as she buckled the leather straps around her slender hips. Jamie straddled her, closing her eyes as she fitted the blunt end of the double dildo against her aching crotch, and sank down, a little at a time, until she could feel her soaking cunt pressing flush against Olivia’s.

‘Fuck, that’s incredible,’ she moaned. 

Olivia sat up and kissed her, long fingers stroking across her back. Jamie started rocking back and forth, causing Olivia to moan and keen into her mouth.

‘Jesus, Jamie,’ she whispered, ‘that’s so fucking good.’

Jamie picked up speed, one hand fisted in Olivia’s hair as she rode her harder and harder.

‘Christ,’ she moaned, as her excitement spiralled towards the ceiling, ‘fuck me, ya sexy fuckin’ bitch…’

Olivia thrust her hips upwards, once, twice, hitting Jamie’s G-spot and sending her skyward.

‘Oh God!’ Olivia shrieked as she came apart, ‘JAMIE…!’

‘FUCK!’ Jamie screamed as the stars of a million galaxies burst inside her. ‘LIVVY!’

She collapsed full length onto Olivia, knocking her back onto the bed, and lay with her face buried in her hair, sweating and exhausted, trying to get her breath back. 

There was a pause, followed by a small, gently derisive snort.

‘Livvy?!’ Olivia said, incredulously.


	6. Chapter 6

The next week at DoSAC, Olivia was checking a draft of Nick’s speech, when she heard a quiet, sardonic voice raised in song:

‘Jamie and Olivia sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…’

‘What th’ FUCK d’ye mean?!’ screamed Jamie, materialising out of nowhere and storming over to Bernice Swain’s desk. 

Bernice recoiled at the sight of a small, furious, curly-haired Motherwell tornado racing toward her, and leaned back in her swivel chair.

‘N-nothing,’ she stammered. ‘I just…have this habit of singing to myself, it didn’t mean anything...’

‘Well, don’t fuckin’ sing it again, ya hear, or I’ll pull yer fuckin’ hair!’ Jamie snarled, leaning forward and sweeping a sheaf of papers and a half-eaten Caramel bar off Bernice’s desk, before storming off again. 

‘Oh dear,’ murmured Glenda, ‘someone’s got out of the wrong side of bed this morning.’

Olivia flushed slightly. Did Glenda have any idea about her and Jamie? Then again, she thought, she’s too busy hopelessly sighing over Robin to notice anything else, the poor old cow.

Much later, she was filling up a plastic cup from the water cooler, when she felt someone grab her arm.

‘Mai fuckin’ office,’ Jamie snarled, propelling her down the corridor, ‘NOW.’

‘Oh dear,’ Terry chuckled to Nick as they watched them hurrying past, water splashing over Olivia’s blouse and the walls, ‘she’s in for it now.’

Jamie wrenched her office door open and pushed Olivia inside, slamming the door behind them.

‘Look, Jamie, is this really a good idea…’ Olivia began.

Jamie shoved her against the wall and kissed her, hard, her heartbeat accelerating dangerously, stroking Olivia’s breasts over the damp cotton of her blouse, shuddering as she felt her nipples hardening beneath her fingers.

‘I cannae…stop…thinkin’ about ye…ya fuckin’…moistened bint,’ Jamie gasped between kisses.

‘Oh, very droll. Monty Python?’ murmured Olivia.

‘Right first fuckin’ time, Lady of the fuckin’ Lake. Watery tart,’ Jamie murmured, and Olivia gasped as a hand started gliding down her left thigh. 

‘Bloody idiot,’ Olivia muttered, as she groped underneath Jamie’s tight skirt, fingers contacting scorching hot skin, then the soaking silk of her knickers. Jamie started panting against her neck.

‘Fuck me,’ Jamie gasped, her blood singing in her ears as Olivia slid two long fingers inside her and crooked them upwards. 

‘Gotta be quick,’ Olivia mumbled. 

Jamie pinched her clit through her knickers in response, and she clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp.

‘Oh, it won’t take long I promise ye…’ Jamie snarled, her words tailing off into a groan as Olivia slid another two fingers inside. ‘Oh God, ye’re fuckin’ good at that, don’t stop…’

‘Be quiet, would you?’ Olivia said, glancing nervously at the door. 

She moaned as Jamie pulled her knickers aside and plunged four fingers inside her. Jamie grabbed the back of Olivia’s head and kissed her savagely. Olivia moaned into her mouth, her own desire spiralling.

Jamie was bucking frantically onto her hand, her breathing jagged. Olivia broke the kiss, flooding and fluttering around Jamie’s fingers as she gazed at her face.

‘So fucking beautiful,’ she moaned quietly, ‘come for me…’

She bent down and kissed Jamie again, eyes squeezing tight as the older woman keened into her mouth, feeling the shudder through Jamie’s entire body as she came hard around her fingers. Olivia moaned in response. She was so close, now…

‘Jamie!’ barked a familiar voice from outside. 

Jamie’s eyes flicked open in panic as she withdrew her fingers.

‘Oh, fuckshitbollockscuntwank! Fuckin’ Mal!’ she hissed.

‘JAMIE! Where the FUCK are ye?’ Mal screamed, her voice closer.

Jamie scooted over to her desk and dived underneath it, hidden from view. Olivia, dazed, collapsed into the chair. The click of red stilettos became deafening. The door burst open. 

‘JAMIE!’ Mal shrieked. 

She looked incandescent with rage. Her nostrils flared, as if scenting prey. Olivia gulped, nervously.

‘What the fuck has been goin’ on in here?!’ Mal growled.


	7. Chapter 7

Olivia’s face flushed as she gazed fearfully at Mal.

‘I’m waitin’ fer a fuckin’ explanation, ya little slag. Where the fuck is Jamie?!’ Mal growled, her eyes boring into Olivia’s soul.

‘She’s…she’s not here, Mal. She…she heard Nick’s awful interview on The World at One, said something about giving him a terminal bollocking and stormed out. You know, the usual,’ Olivia said, her heart thumping with fright.

Mal studied the long red fingernails of her left hand for a second, then turned her stare back on Olivia.

‘Right. As it’s just ye here, there’s somethin’ I want ye tae do fer me,’ she said, absently patting her curls. 

She walked forward and leaned forward on Jamie’s desk, her face so close Olivia could feel her hot breath on her cheek.

‘As ye know, it’s the Tory party conference next week. I want ye tae sweet-talk Ed Messinger again, shag his tiny brains out an’ get him tae spill all their juicy policy ideas in the fuckin’ afterglow, once ye’ve drained his fuckin’ balls,’ Mal said.

Olivia started as Mal reached forward and started caressing her left breast over her blouse.

‘Ah. No, Mal. Sorry but…no,’ Olivia said, her voice tailing off into a gasp as Mal quickly and expertly unbuttoned her blouse and snaked a hand inside her bra, cupping her breast, rubbing a palm over the pebbled nipple.

‘What d’ye mean, no?’ Mal hissed in her ear. ‘Nothin’ ye haven’t done before. Ye like cock, don’t ye?’

Olivia suppressed a moan as she felt Jamie’s palms spreading her thighs underneath the desk. Oh Christ, she thought, not now…then again, it felt so good….

‘I’m…I’m not doing it, OK?’ she gasped, unable to care for the time being. ‘He’s a boring right-wing tosser, and if I never have to speak to his fascist fuck-wit of a mother again, it’ll be too soon…’

Mal looked thunderstruck. Olivia, cursing her boldness, closed her eyes, expecting a hard slap to the face. Instead, she felt the talons of Mal’s free hand stroking down her back, and she shuddered, raising herself slightly as Jamie hooked her thumbs underneath the elastic of her knickers, and started drawing them down. Mal’s fingers probed each vertebra through her blouse, sliding downwards, a fraction of an inch by a fraction of an inch. 

‘So ye have got a fuckin’ spine after all,’ Mal breathed into her ear, and Olivia shuddered; Christ, Mal had one hell of a sexy voice. She spread her thighs further as Jamie’s lips contacted her soaking crotch. She’d fantasised this very scenario not two weeks ago, and the reality was hotter and far more terrifying than she’d imagined.

‘But ye’re still doin’ it fer me, love. I’ve got hold of the CCTV pictures from the fuckin’ office party. I’m sure ye don’t want the whole world tae see what a fuckin’ talented and inventive mouth ye’ve fuckin’ got.’

Olivia could only gasp as Jamie’s tongue started swirling. 

‘Do yer?’ Mal said, her nails circling Olivia’s nipple. Olivia grabbed hold of Jamie’s curls under the desk, forcing her mouth hard against her.

‘Kiss me, for Christ’s sake,’ Olivia said.

‘That’s the spirit. Good girl. Ye fancy me, I always fuckin’ said so,’ Mal said.

She grabbed hold of her curls, wrenching them as her mouth crashed down on Olivia’s parted lips. Olivia whimpered into her mouth as Mal ripped her blouse open, buttons pinging over the desk. Jamie shoved four fingers inside her, and she gasped.

‘I can smell ye,’ Mal muttered, between kisses, ‘I can fuckin’ smell how much ye want me. Jesus, that’s the best fuckin’ CCTV video I’ve ever watched, ya cock-sucking little bitch…’

Olivia moaned as Jamie sucked harder, spreading herself wider as Mal pinched her nipples and whispered in her ear.

‘I want ya doin’ that fer me. I want ye on yer knees, lass, licking me until I squirt over yer fuckin’ face…’

Olivia bit her lip as her ecstasy started spiralling, finally flinging her long arms around Mal’s back and kissing her desperately, burying her scream of pleasure. She held onto her for long moments, shaking, as Jamie licked her clean.

She collapsed back against the chair, exhausted, and Mal gazed at her with absolutely no expression on her face. 

‘The two of ye must think I was born fuckin’ yesterday,’ she huffed.

Then she reached down, grabbed Jamie by the hair and hauled her to her feet.

‘Fuckin’ fuck the fuck OFF, Mal!’ Jamie yelled.

‘Shut the fuck up. An’ don’t fuckin’ start,’ Mal snapped at Olivia, who had opened her mouth to protest. She reached into her jacket pocket and drew out her phone, dialled a number. There was a pause.

‘Ah…Sam darlin’? Yeah, sorry to disturb ya, sweetheart, but I’ve got a couple of wee sluts that need punishment. So could ya get the gear and get over tae wee Jamie’s office? Yeah…yeah! That’s very good, like it!’ she said, chuckling. ‘Oh, and Sam, bring the riding crop would ya, there’s a good lad…’


	8. Chapter 8

Ten minutes later, Jamie was tied hand and foot to an office chair, her eyes blazing, yelling increasingly muffled curses as Sam calmly fastened her gag. Mal turned, and grinned coldly in her direction.

‘That’s better,’ she murmured. ‘We’ll get a bit of fuckin’ peace around here, now.’

She grabbed hold of Olivia’s curls and kissed her, hard. After a second’s pause, Olivia started kissing her back, hands reaching up to stroke down her spine. Mal roughly grabbed hold of her wrists and pinned them down to her sides.

‘Oh no ye don’t,’ she hissed. ‘Fuckin’ disobedient hussy. Bend over that desk. Do it now.’

Jamie glared, struggling against her bonds as Olivia nodded fearfully and did as she was told. Mal strode forward, and with one elegant motion she yanked Olivia’s skirt up around her waist.

‘Oh, would ye look at that,’ Mal hissed, ‘red hat, no fuckin’ knickers. Why am I not fuckin’ surprised?’

‘Mal, please…’

‘Please, what, ya little cunt?’

Olivia gulped, eyes flashing an apology to Jamie, who looked positively murderous.

‘Kiss me…’

Mal grabbed hold of Olivia’s face and kissed her, glancing over to Jamie as she did so. Olivia moaned into her mouth, her fingernails digging into the hard wood.

Eventually, Mal broke the kiss, her nails digging into Olivia’s slender hips, grinning at her stunned, sticky, flushed, lipstick-smeared face.

‘Look at ye,’ she sneered. ‘Ye’re a fuckin’ mess, aren’t ye? Fuckin’ disgrace. I should really fuckin’ spank ye…’

Olivia lowered her head, and nodded, shamefully. Mal reached down, and raised her chin with a forefinger, staring straight into her eyes.

‘Ye’d like that, wouldn’t ye? Could tell that the moment I met ye. Ya little slut. Oh, and shut up, you,’ she hissed at Jamie, who was cursing louder and louder into her gag. ‘Don’t tell me ye wouldn’t want tae be next! Sam, the crop, if ye wouldn’t mind?’

Sam grinned, brushing his dark blond fringe out of his eyes as he retrieved the riding crop from his briefcase. 

‘Thanks, love,’ Mal husked as he handed it to her. Olivia shuddered as Mal stroked the leather tab of the crop up and down her back, and kissed a line of kisses up her neck, running her tongue in slow circles across her earlobe.

‘Bet ye’d like me tae chain ye up and whip ye,’ she hissed, just loud enough for Jamie to hear. Olivia nodded, helplessly.

‘Christ. I can fuckin’ smell how wet ye are for me.’

She tossed the riding crop to one side and pushed Olivia against the desk, then leant forward, her breasts pressing against her back.

‘Safeword, sweetheart,’ she whispered breathily into Olivia’s ear.

Jamie’s eyes flashed as Olivia whispered the words to Mal. Mal’s eyes widened, and she grinned, widely.

‘Why am I no’ fuckin’ surprised? Fuckin’ geek bitch! Brace yerself, love…’

She bit her lip as Olivia gasped and settled her elbows against the desk, then raised her hand.

Olivia yelled as Mal slapped her arse, hard, and kept going. Olivia’s mouth was open, panting hard, and when Sam impulsively stooped down to kiss her, she kissed him back, gasping into his mouth as his skilled fingers tangled in her hair.

‘Death Star!’ Olivia cried out finally, as she collapsed forward onto the desk. Mal straightened up, breathing hard.

‘Good girl. Untie the miniature slag, would ye, Sam?’ Mal said, nodding towards Jamie. 

Sam nodded, then walked over and unravelled the ropes from a mutely furious Jamie. Then Mal turned on her heel and walked out of the room without a word. Sam winked at Jamie, before turning to leave. Jamie’s face flushed.

The door slammed shut. Olivia stood up shakily with a groan. Jamie stood, flinging the chair to the floor, and stormed over to her, raising her hand. Olivia grabbed her wrist.

‘Don’t you dare fucking slap me!’ she snapped at Jamie. Jamie stared at her, dumbstruck.

‘I’m…I’m fuckin’ sorry. It won’t happen again, swear tae ye,’ Jamie stammered.

‘It better not.’

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment.

‘I fuckin’ love ye, Livvy’ Jamie said, at last, her eyes welling up.

‘I know. I love you, too. Please don’t cry.’

They leaned in and kissed each other.


	9. Chapter 9

Nick Murray gulped nervously as he rounded the corridor, clutching his briefcase against his chest like a shield. God knows why Malina had summoned him to her office today of all days, just as his grip on his home life was slipping out of his hands along with his job. Son in trouble at school, wife out gallivanting with Christ knows who...

He shuddered. At least Malina's quite, ah, stimulating company, he thought. He paused for breath, leaning against the wall as he tried not to think about that filthy mouth of hers, or her high heels, nor - God forbid - Malina in French lingerie, standing over him, wielding a whip...

"You OK, Nick?"

Nick looked up to see Terry peering at him with great interest.

"Can I get you a coffee? Or something stronger later, they've cancelled my wine tasting this evening."

"N-no. Thanks anyway."

"Righto."

Nick cringed at Terry's cheerful, inept whistling as he ambled off. Somehow, out of all of them, Terry had managed to maintain a work-life balance. Lucky bastard, Nick thought. Then his scalp started prickling as he heard something else.

"Fuck luv, get in mai fuckin' lap right now. Got tae see those amazin' tits o' yours."

Nick gulped once more. He'd heard the storage cupboard was a haven for knee-tremblers. He glanced furtively around before carefully turning the wobbly door handle and stepping inside.

Just a quick look, he thought. Just one image for the spank bank, then I'm out of here.

He saw Malina's favourite Scottish terrier, Jamie., sitting on a forgotten formica table, with one of his own advisors, Olivia, straddling her lap. Blouses unbuttoned. bras hitched down, both effectively topless, Jamie mouthing Olivia's nipples like a thirsty dog drinking from a fountain. Oh fucking hell, thought Nick.

"There will be blood," Jamie was murmuring between mouthfuls, "an' there will be tits."

Olivia tipped her head backwards, her curly dark hair cascading down her back, and the moan Nick let out betrayed his presence.

"What the livin' fuck - " Jamie started, her beautiful blue eyes hardening into blades.

"Looks like we've got a visitor..." Olivia murmured.

Nick scrabbled at the door, only succeding in slamming it shut. Before - oh God - the handle came off in his hand...

To be continued....


	10. Chapter 10

"Well, can I just say, tha's really fuckin' rude of ye, bargin' in like tha'," Jamie snarled.

"I'm sorry - Christ, I'm sorry!" Nick whimpered. He'd never met Jamie before, but her reputation preceded her.

"Yeah, I'm quite surprised at you, Nick. I didn't have  
you down as a voyeur," Olivia said. Her lips and cheeks were flushed, but her gaze was as steady and contented as a cat's, and for some reason this terrified Nick.

OK, he thought. It's just a nightmare I'm having due  
to the intolerable stress of my fucking job. I just need to fall through the floor and I'll wake up.

It didn't happen. Instead, Olivia bent forward and kissed Jamie, who responded by running her fingers through Olivia's wild hair.

"I think..." Olivia murmured, between kisses, "someone might need...a bit of assistance...don't you?"

Jamie grinned at her, showing sharp teeth.

"Now, there's the girl. Got quite the killer instinct, haven't ye?"

Nick gawped at the two of them as they unwound from each other, clambered off the table and knelt either side of him. For fuck's sake, Nick thought as they unzipped him, now the dream's gone lucid  
...

He moaned aloud as first Jamie's tongue, then Olivia's, started stroking up and down his aching length. They held his dick between them, tongues tangling around him as they kissed. He knew they were toying with him for their own amusement, but God, it felt so bloody good.

He thrust forwards and was rewarded by a soft hand gripping the base of his cock as they both kissed the sensitive base behind the head. Just two more minutes, he thought, his heart racing, and he'd come over two sets of pale cheeks and red lips. He felt a tongue licking away the pre-come leaking from him and he shuddered; he was so close...

"Enough," he heard. "Time fer a bit o' privacy, eh?"

"Yeah, sorry, time's up. You've got a meeting with Mal now, remember?"

Nick clutched the table in front of him, mouth gaping like a fish's. The dream had turned bad once more; they were pulling up his briefs between them, zipping up his trousers, putting him away.

"The door..." Nick managed to whisper.

"Ah, nae fuckin' problem. Stand back!"

Jamie kicked it, hard, and it sprang open.

"Handle," she snapped. Nick started with surprise to find himself still gripping on to it. He handed it over obediantly.

"Right, I'll fix it. Now, get the fuck out," she snarled.

Pair of fucking witches, Nick thought as he left. Flustered, adjusting himself, Nick inched down the corridor to Mal's office. And though he denied the rumours later in his bitter memoirs, his heart leaped as Mal summoned him. She knew when he was aroused. She always knew.

"Nick!" Mal drawled, with an evil grin on her face. "Sae good of ye to come. And come ye fuckin' well shall!"


	11. Chapter 11

Jamie gazed down with satisfaction at her handiwork, and picked up the paddle again, the corners of her lips quirking up into a grin.

"Who else, darlin'? Who else have ye fucked at work? Tell me, or I won't let ye come."

Olivia, lying face down on the bed, topless, little skirt hitched up, wrists tied behind her back with her own black, stretchy lace tights and a huge vibrator jutting obscenely from her crotch, let out a breathy moan.

"Danielle...Danielle Miller," she gasped.

Jamie grinned as she flicked a switch.

"Good girl," she murmured, watching Olivia's back arch as the vibrator buzzed wildly. Olivia yelped as Jamie spanked her with the paddle again.

"Ahhh! Christ, Jamie! Are you that jealous?!" Olivia mewled. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing hard, her eyes practically unfocused with bliss.

"Nah. Oh, fuck, who am I fuckin' kidding? Very fuckin' jealous. She's fuckin' gorgeous. An' fuckin' evil. Lots of fun in the shower after your squash games, eh, bitch?" Jamie hissed. She could feel how wicked her grin had become.

Olivia moaned with frustration as Jamie flicked the switch again and the buzzing stopped. God, she'd been close that time.

"Jamie...if I promise you a threesome with her, will you let me fucking come?!"

Jamie grabbed a fistful of Olivia's flowing hair and kissed her, fiercely.

"Ask fuckin' nicely!" she murmured against Olivia's cheek.

"Please. Pleasepleaseplease, Jamie McDonald, queen of my heart, light of my loins, please let me come!"

Jamie stroked down Olivia's back, and kissed her tenderly.

"I fuckin' love new technology," she murmured.

She flicked the switch again, covering her ears with her hands just in time before Olivia screamed loudly enough for the people two streets away to hear.

Two days later

"Um, Glenda?" Olivia said, gesturing.

Glenda peered at her from over the top of her glasses, with a wary look.

"Oh, yes? What do you want now?" she said, carefully.

"Ah...I've just sent you an email, actually," Olivia said, a long hand straying to her chin.

Glenda checked her screen, then groaned.

"Christ, no!" she hissed, glancing fearfully from side to side. "Have you got any idea how much trouble we'd get into? And what do you mean, 'create a distraction?'"

"Oh, you know. You'll think of something, I know you will. Tell you what - bottle of Prosecco? You could tempt Robin into having a nightcap with you."

Glenda stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide. Robin was her weakness, and Olivia knew it.

"Alright, alright!" Glenda said tiredly. "Anything for a bloody quiet life!"

Olivia beamed at her.

Later that afternoon, Danielle and Olivia were heading down the corridor towards the showers.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Danielle murmured, her dark eyes fearful.

"Positive," Olivia murmured back, grinning. "Glenda's keeping a watch out for Mal. Bless her."

She turned suddenly and, thrilling at her own daring, she pressed Danielle against the nearest wall and kissed her, enjoying the older woman's squeak of surprise against her lips.

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Hands trembling, they opened the door of the shower together and stepped inside, Olivia pushing it shut again with her foot. Danielle pushed her against the wall in pitch darkness, and Olivia moaned as she felt those soft, smooth lips kissing a line down her throat.

The light blazed suddenly, and they broke apart, gasping in shock.

"Gotcha," Jamie said, standing by the door and grinning wickedly. "Well, what are we waitin' for? Get 'em off!""

Danielle cocked an elegant eyebrow at her - really, Jamie was most unrefined, she thought. And then she grinned back.

"Why not? Why the hell not?"

Jamie pressed her against the wall, standing on tiptoe to kiss her, then pressed in to whisper in the perfect shell of her ear.

"Bet this is what ye always wanted, eh, ya posh bitch?" she whispered, her voice raspy with lust. "A genuine bit of rough?"

She closed her hand around Danielle's long black ponytail and pulled for emphasis. She could feel the tall young woman's thigh pressing between her legs, and murmured appreciatively. It could be the build-up to some amazing sex, she thought. Then again, she wasn't renowned for her patience.

She broke away, and grabbed Olivia, who had been watching the scene with open-mouthed fascination, and kissed her, fervently. She smiled as she smacked her lover's arse, hard, feeling Olivia moan into her mouth.

"S'OK," Jamie murmured, keeping a close watch on Danielle's expression. "She likes it. Or perhaps ye already know that? Ye know, luv, if this is too fuckin' grubby for ye, ye can just fuck off now, alreet? We'll be just fine without ye."

Danielle surveyed her with absolutely no expression in her wide, dark eyes. Then, to Jamie's surprise, she flung her arms around her and kissed her, hard and fast.

"Fuck's sake!" Danielle hissed, taking hold of Jamie's small, strong right hand. She guided it up her own skirt, over her right inner thigh, and then up to her crotch. "Can't you feel how much I want this, woman?!"

Jamie flashed her wolf-grin at her.

"Hey, fancy suit and no knickers? Works fer me. Let's see..." she said, in between alternating kisses for both of them, "how long...it'll take...tae...bring...each other...off..."

They hurriedly stripped each other, ripping down zips and pulling at buttons, tossing their clothes to the floor as they bundled each other into the shower and turned it on, shoving each other against the cold tiled walls and kissing each other. Jamie found, to her delight, she was just the right height to nipple and suck at two pairs of perfect, pert breasts. Her dark hair was soon plastered to her face and neck by the hot, pelting water, and she moaned around the pebbled nipple between her full lips.

"Show me..." she moaned between sucks, "what you two tall tarts get up tae...when I'm not here..."

As far as she was able, she watched as Olivia slid a long hand down Danielle's toned, slippery body - like a fuckin' snake, she thought. Thighs anchored around one of Olivia's legs, she watched as Olivia stroked through Danielle's neat, dripping curls, and then slipped two long fingers inside her. Judging by the heartfelt moan Danielle made, Olivia had hit the jackpot straight away.

"Very fuckin' ladylike, I must say," Jamie half-gasped, half-snarled, as she started grinding against Olivia's leg. Danielle stroked up Olivia's other thigh and cupped her crotch, making her squeal.

"Bitch on heat," Danielle rasped in Jamie's ear. "You asked for it."

Jamie started as she felt one of Danielle's fingers, then two, then three, pushing inside her, felt the others pushing her against the wall, heard their gasping, orgasmic cries. Fuck's sake, she thought, Danni's a fuckin' expert manipulator and no mistake. She threw her head back, her vision blurred, water gushing against her face, as Danielle added a fourth, her hand a fulcrum she rocked on, and it was so good...

"Fuck me! Oh, God, fuck me!" Jamie shrieked as she came.

She stumbled on the wet floor of the shower and almost fell, and then Olivia caught her.

"S'OK," Olivia whispered, "I've got you."

She smiled down at Jamie, her long dark mermaid hair hanging down in endless coils, and Jamie smiled back.

They found a couple of white towels on the rails, dried themselves off hurriedly, dressed and left.

Ten minutes later, Glenda watched as Jamie and Olivia rushed past her without speaking. After a pause, Danielle, perfectly groomed, not a hair out of place, followed them. She stopped, and surveyed Glenda, a condescending smirk on her face.

"At a bit of a loose end, are you?" she said.

Glenda glared at her.

"You know perfectly well why I'm here," she said. "I'm doing you a favour."

"What the fuck!" shouted an aggrieved voice from the shower. They both turned to look, and saw Bernice Swain sticking her head out the door.

"I don't believe it!" Bernice cried unhappily. "Someone's used my towels again! That's the third time this week!"

"And on that note," Danielle said, smoothly, "it's time I was off. It's time for my review."

Glenda watched her go, a feeling of foreboding in her heart. She didn't know Jamie well, but she found her terrifying. She hoped her young friend Olivia knew what she was doing. Besides, a threesome in the shower, at work? Glenda was no prude, despite what people said, but it seemed pretty reckless to her. God knows what Mal's going to do if she finds out.

She walked off, shaking her head, thinking about the way Jamie and Olivia looked at each other, and wishing that Robin would look at her that way, too.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Lady Juliet Nicholson. Bless her.

"Juliet?"

Lady Juliet Nicholson of Arnage looked up from her computer to see Milo Mallory, her PA, hovering solicitously by the door.

"Is there anything I can get for you? A cup of peppermint tea, perhaps?"

Juliet smoothed back a lock of strawberry-blonde hair that had uncoiled itself from her tightly-wound French plait, and smiled tiredly.

"No thank you, my dear. I'm just going to print out this report. Would you mind putting it through the binder? I've no idea how to work the wretched thing. Thank you ever so much."

Milo smiled and nodded as he walked out towards the printers. Such a nice young man, Juliet mused. Polite, personable, and undeniably good-looking, with his thick black hair and startling big green eyes, he was cutting quite a swathe through the staff, or so rumour had it. If Juliet had been of a different sexual orientation and ten years younger, she might have been one of them. It was good to have him around, and perhaps one day she'd feel able to open up to him about her life, her disappointments and her one great hope.

She spent the next couple of hours in a focus group meeting with Glenda, Olivia and Jamie. She knew all three of them thoroughly disliked her, but she kept on smiling until her jaw ached, because manners cost nothing. She pretended to ignore the fact that Glenda "accidentally" gave her the finger for about thirty seconds. She coughed politely when Jamie bit the walnut off the top of her Walnut Whip and wantonly plunged her tongue into the chocolate cone to lap up the vanilla centre in a blatant display of mock-cunnilingus. Jamie's other hand was under the desk, and, judging by the way Olivia's cheeks flushed, all the way up the younger woman's skirt, too. Really, she thought. No finesse, some people.

Juliet felt herself frowning as she left the meeting, quickly, so as not to hear the others laughing about her. Odd flashbacks kept hitting her, as they often did when she was in a low mood. Her classmates from her boarding school, on the coach on the way back from their skiing trip, hurling sweets and chanting "Lesbian! Lesbian!" at her (though how the hell they knew was a complete mystery, even now). In the dim drawing room of her country home, with her father railing at her, shouting that he'd never have an heir. Or her cold, ex-model mother, sneering as she told Juliet that she was "neither beautiful, nor useful"...

She blinked back tears as she gazed at her reflection in the Ladies' mirror. With her moon face, wire-rimmed glasses and uptight hair, she didn't think much of her own looks. She'd only had the one partner in her life, Helen, a sweet, silly thing who ended up running off with a Page 3 model. Strangely, the newspapers chose to concentrate on Juliet, and that had been the nail in the coffin where her relationship with her family had been concerned. Still, she reasoned, she could devote the rest of her life to being useful to the one woman in her life who mattered to her:

Mal. Malina. That wicked symphony of a name. Her ferocious, half-starved she-wolf, from the wrong side of the Glasgow tracks, she with eyes like a raging sea and the vocabulary of a drunk, oversexed sailor. She sniffled slightly, found her smile again and dialled her office.

"Milo? Would you go to the fridge in the pantry? There's a big Tupperware box in the centre. Could you bring it to the meeting room, please? Thank you so much. You've been so helpful, as always. I really do appreciate it."

Ten minutes later, Juliet was waiting expectantly in the meeting room. Milo had excelled himself: there were three plates, piled high with cupcakes from the Tupperware box, plus a bone china pot filled with deliciously aromatic tea, a delightful little milk jug in the shape of a cow, a silver sugar bowl heaped with sugar cubes (because Mal had a taste for lots of sugar in her hot beverages) and two tiny little cups perched on equally tiny saucers, waiting. Her pulse quickened as she heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor outside.

Oh, Malina, thought Juliet. I absolutely cannot wait to see you. Darling.

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Juliet has had enough of Jamie's attitude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's probably best to avoid the end of the chapter if you're an emetophobe, or if you're eating. Thanks!

"Lady Juliet Nicholson!" Mal drawled, a feral grin spreading across her famished features, "Nice tae see the fuckin' Head Girl's graced me with her presence!"

"It's nice to see you, too," Juliet said, smiling genuinely. "Do make yourself comfortable."

Mal ignored her, and proceeded to pace back and forth, her heels making just the slightest of clicks against the carpet. Juliet forced herself not to look at Mal's long, lean calves in their seamed stockings. She cleared her throat.

"Ahem...if I may just start with the salient points of my report, I think you'll agree that we've got quite a long way to go before - "

"Ah, can it, ya posh fuck! Call this a fuckin' tea set?" 

"I'm - I'm sorry?" Juliet said, smoothing her hair back.

"Do ye expect me tae pick up the sugar cubes with my fuckin' nails?!" Mal spat, gesturing with her red talons for emphasis. "Where's the fuckin' tongs for the sugar bowl?"

Juliet stared at her. Had anyone else said such a thing to her, she would have politely but firmly informed them exactly where they could insert said tongs, but this was Mal, the woman she loved beyond all words and reason.

"Good point. I'll...just go to the pantry and get them. I'll be back in a minute."

Juliet left the room, face flushing as she felt Mal's wild eyes on her back. She's right, of course, she thought. She mustn't scuff her nail varnish. It would spoil the impact of her beautiful hands. She pushed open the pantry door, and started as she heard sighs and moans coming from the far corner. What the hell, she thought, as she turned on the light.

Olivia was propped against the sink, balancing on one foot with her other long, slender leg wrapped around Jamie's waist, as Jamie pounded into her with a large strap-on dildo. Jamie grasped Olivia's shoulder in one hand, her other hand buried between her own legs and moving fast. Juliet's jaw dropped as she slammed the door shut. She was aggrieved to note they didn't even seem to care.

"What...what on earth do you think you're doing?!" she gasped.

Jamie turned her head and leered at her.

"What does it fuckin' look like, gurl?"

"But...you can't do that here!" Juliet blustered, cheeks burning. "There's food in here! It's unhygienic! Stop it, this instant!"

"Oh, well, aren't ye the fuckin' school-marm?" Jamie sneered, her voice ragged. "What are ye gonnae do? Put us in detention?"

"I'll...I'll come over there and spank your bare bottom in a moment, young lady!" Juliet said, her voice quavering.

"Oh, please..." Olivia moaned.

"Go on then," Jamie gasped, "it might be interestin'."

Juliet stormed over and swung her open right hand at Jamie's lush, rounded buttocks, then the left, striking hard. Jamie winced and yelled, thrusting harder inside Olivia, who shrieked appreciatively. And then Jamie's face flushed for another reason.

"Jesus!" she yelled. "That's fuckin' great!"

"Oh, really?! You like me spanking you, you nasty little hussy?" Juliet hissed, rage and sweetness boiling up inside her.

"Aye! Please, ma'am! Harder!" Jamie begged.

"Wicked girl!" Juliet intoned, slapping harder. So satisfying, taming such a feral slut, she thought. She had two beautiful women teetering on the edge of orgasm in front of her, and for the first time in her life, she felt...powerful...

She gave a final, powerful slap to Jamie's reddened bottom and Jamie came, yelling into Olivia's mane of hair. Olivia's scream as she came set Juliet's ears ringing for days afterwards. Jamie slumped against Olivia, then turned her head and smiled tiredly at Juliet.

"Thanks, love. Christ. Ye should be a lesbian dominatrix. Seriously. Ye'd have punters queuing round the block fer ye."

Olivia, her leg still anchored around Jamie's waist, looked at Juliet, eyes shining.

"Any chance you could spank me, too? I've been such a bad girl."

"Um...maybe another time," Juliet said. Her palms were stinging. "I...I only came in for the tongs for the sugar bowl. Ah, there they are," she said. She grabbed them and hurriedly left, closing the door behind her.

"Ye've been a long time," Mal said evenly when Juliet returned.

"Yes, well, I was obliged to...discipline two members of staff," Juliet said, blushing.

"Oh, I know who ye mean. They're always shaggin' in there. Fuckin' cheeky, isn't it?"

Juliet noticed with satisfaction that one of the plates was empty. There was a trace of icing on Mal's pale left cheek. Oh, if only I were close enough to kiss it off for her, Juliet thought.

"They're fuckin' great. Ye know, if I wasnae a heterosexual woman, I would kiss ye!" Mal said, grinning.

Juliet smiled back.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks..."

Mal's expression suddenly changed to one of alarm.

"Oh God...I don't feel sae good..."

"Oh no!" Juliet said, in consternation. "I didn't mean to suggest - I'm sorry - "

"Nae, not that. I'm nae heterosexual. I'm fuckin' pansexual. Google it if ye don't know - "

"I know what pansexual means. Oh, dear. Can I get you some water?"

"Nooo, just a bin. Shit! I've nae been sick since I drank that Advocaat and Campari when I was fuckin' sixteen...oh Jeeeesus..."

Juliet stroked Mal's hair back, her mind in turmoil as the woman she loved retched violently into a waste paper bin.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks and hugs to you, rubywallace25, for your support and inspiration! :)

"To: olivia.reeder@dosac.gov.uk

From: malina.ftucker@dosac.gov.uk

Subject: You Useless Cunt

Hello you fucking Pop Tart.

I thought I told you months ago to do the nasty with Ed Messinger and discover the Opposition's Dalek Master Plan and GET OUR FUCKING FILE BACK. 

Yet again you've demonstrated your complete inability to obey simple fucking commands, you fucking useless streak of..."

High heels perched on her desk, Olivia scrolled lazily through the message, one eye on the screen and the other looking out for Jamie.

"...why haven't you drained his balls like I asked you to do about a MILLION YEARS AGO...give you a fucking spinedectomy...Elkie Brooks without the class, talent or any fucking knickers..."

Typical Malc, she thought. Move along, nothing to see here.

"...bring your fucking tart of a girlfriend along if it makes it easier..."

Olivia finished polishing her glasses and slipped them back on. Ah well, she thought, as she switched her phone off. That's more like it. Who knows, maybe Mal's beginning to soften up?

 

Tired and hungover, Ed harkened to the sound of his "Land of Hope and Glory" ringtone and answered his mobile.

"Hello? Edward Messinger here?"

"Oh hi, it's me," Olivia said. "Listen, can Jamie and I come round to see you at some point?"

"Oh, really?" Ed said suspiciously. "What for?"

"Welllll...you know that hypothetical thing we talked about but never got round to...?"

"I'll clear my diary," Ed said, "when can you come over?"

 

Olivia rang the doorbell. After a prolonged pause, the door was opened by Philomena Smith, or Philly, as she preferred to be called. Olivia's nemesis. She tossed back her curtain of dark blonde hair and arched an eyebrow.

"Oh, it's you," Philly snapped. "What the hell do you want?"

"Yeah, thanks for that charming greeting, as ever, Philomena. We'd like to see Ed, please, if that's not too complex a task for you," Olivia sneered.

"Yeah? I think you'll find he's a bit busy at the moment."

"Oh fuck off, Philomena!"

Philly placed her hands on her hips.

"Yeah, alright, I'll fuck off, then. Oh, wait a minute! This is my flat! Why don't you and your tiny Hobbit mate fuck off?!"

Jamie advanced, wielding a pen and snarling. Philly took a step back.

"Because he's fuckin' invited us, ya fuckin' minge-tunnel!"

"Um, OK," Philly gulped. "You'd better both come in, then."

 

They walked through the gloomy kitchen, trying to ignore the dirty look from Affie, Ed's darkly beautiful sister, and climbed the stairs.

"Nice fuckin' place, this," Jamie mused.

"Yeah, it is. God knows how they can afford it."

"Bank o' Ma and Pa, no doubt."

Ed opened his bedroom door before they had the chance to knock.

"Hi," he said. "Didn't think you were coming. Come in."

 

"Tight enough for ye?" Jamie said later, tightening the reef knot around Ed's remaining wrist and securing him to the bars of his brass bed.

"Yeah," Ed said, naked, blindfolded and smiling. "Funny thing, it was always Ols who liked being tied up when we were together."

"Aye, kinky slut, isn't she?" Jamie said. Olivia giggled.

"Ye never told me ye'd been with such a hunk, Livvy," Jamie purred, taking the purple feather they'd brought with them and running it in slow circles across Ed's bare, muscular torso.

"It's very important to keep in shape, you know," Ed said. "One mustn't be a burden on the state. This is the result of 40 press-ups and a hard session in the gym every day...oh, God!" he gasped, as Jamie brushed the feather against his hard, straining cock. "What are you doing now?"

"We're completely naked," Olivia cooed, "and coating each other with baby oil. We're getting ever so slippery..."

"Fuck," Ed sighed. "You're not the only ones."

"An' I've got four fingers up her snatch, I'm gonna make a fist in a moment..." Jamie rasped.

"Christ. You're filthy," Ed moaned, as Jamie stroked him with the feather.

Olivia crept over to the cabinets and started silently going through the drawers. She lifted up a pile of papers, and there it was: Mal's thick red file, with PROPERTY OF DOSAC: HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL monogrammed across the front. Ed would have added the amendments by now.

Ed moaned with frustration as he felt the feather lifting away, the ropes loosened around his wrists.

"Why are you untying me?!" he whined. "I was enjoying that!"

"Because, for what happens next," Jamie whispered, "you're gonna need both hands free."

Ed smiled, waiting. Then he heard the faintest sound of the door clicking shut, and two sets of feet scurrying down the stairs before the front door slammed shut. He tore off the blindfold, stumbled off the bed and ripped open the sash window.

"You common little whores!" he bellowed into the street outside, startling several passers-by, "I'll get you back for this, if it's the last thing I ever do!"

But they had already gone.

 

Back at DoSAC, they could hear Mal screaming in her office.

"It's your fault! It's all your fuckin' fault! IT'S YOURS! Get the fuck out of mae fuckin' office! GET OUT!!"

Nick Murray, breathless, hair mussed, tie and collar askew, stumbled out of the door and closed it, breathing hard.

"Don't go in there," he gasped, eyes wild.

"Oh, aye? Why fuckin' not?" Jamie snapped.

"Just...don't," Nick said, backing away from the door before turning and running.

"Same old, same old!" Olivia said, and laughed. Jamie stood on tiptoe and kissed her.

"Aye. Let's go in."

They opened the door. Mal, sitting at her desk, lifted her head. The whites of her eyes were completely red.

"Got the fuckin' file?" she said, slowly. "Put it on the desk an' get the fuck out."

Her tone alarmed them both.

"Mal? What's wrong?" Jamie said, her skin prickling.

"What's wrong?" Mal said, her eyes hardening. "WHAT'S WRONG?!"

Olivia carefully placed the file on the desk. She cleared her throat.

"Maybe we should...leave? Now?"

Mal stood. Her head lowered. Her lower teeth bared. Her eyes, mad. There was a horrible pause.

"I'LL TELL YE WHAT'S FUCKIN' WRONG!" she screamed. "I'M FUCKIN' PREGNANT!"

Jamie and Olivia exchanged terrified glances.

"FUCK!" they yelled, in unison.

They joined hands and ran for their lives down the corridor.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which tensions boil over between Olivia and Philly.

Over at Opposition HQ, Steffi Pearson pushed her glasses up her nose and glanced at her clipboard. She flared her nostrils, looking somewhat like an irritated rabbit.

"Riiiight. So we can't go with the bullying story, now. Has anyone got some input for the knowledge carousel?"

"Would you mind translating that into English for me?" murmured Peta Mannion. 

Philly shot her an adoring glance. Peta ignored it.

"And what the fuck does that chart even mean?" Peta said, gesturing at the complex gridwork of names, arrows and boxes on the board.

Steffi sighed. Clearly, Peta was someone who would not or could not move with the times.

"It's called a Personality Matrix, Peta. It's a web of names and relationships, and we're using it with the ultimate goal of winning the next election. I take it that's something that's important to you?"

"It's named after The Matrix, by the Wachowski Brothers. It's great stuff, Peta. I've seen it ten times," said Philly.

"Yesss," Peta said, with the suggestion of a sigh. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Whatever," Steffi said, shooting her a dirty look, "I want us to infiltrate their offices. See what we can glean by way of any scandals. I want you to do it, Philly."

Philly smirked.

"Make it so!" she said. "That's from Star Trek, by the way."

"Oh God," Peta muttered.

 

The next day, Olivia was sitting in a meeting room, stealing the chance to text Jamie before the conference call started. White cloths covered the tables, and there were racks of sandwiches, bowls of fruit and jugfuls of iced water as far as she could see. She barely dared to rest an elbow on the table in case she disturbed something.

"Hi love,

Jesus, what about Mal? How's she going to behave in the meeting? Should I call Reception and order crash helmets for everyone?

Livvy xxx"

She pressed the button to send. Seconds later, a message peeped back:

"Hiya darlin

Do not and I mean do NOT even hint that Mal's up the duff. If she attacks the delegates I'll write a fucking blinding press release and no one will ever know.  
Mind you even if you do let on I'll still love u  
Love u

Jayjay xxxx"

She smiled. And then the door creaked open. Philly stuck her head around the door.

"Oh," she sniffed. "It's you. Have you seen Mal at all?"

"No," Olivia said, defensively clutching her mobile, "Have you?"

"Well, obviously not, that's why I'm asking. I'd like a word with her."

"She should be here in about five minutes," Olivia said, hurriedly tucking her mobile into her bag. In some ways, she would have loved Philly to have had a word with Mal. She would never forget the bollocking Philly had received from Mal over Nick's son's bullying allegations. She still giggled about it at odd moments.

"You see, she's been rather absent of late, hasn't she?" Philly said. "I think there might just be a story, there. Along with the lesbian relationship between a certain Advisor and a certain Press Officer?" she said, stepping into the room.

"I don't care what you report about me and Jamie, Philly. This isn't the bloody 1980s. Anyway, what about you and your obvious obsession with Peta Mannion?"

Philly pouted and raised an eyebrow.

"That's just respect and admiration. Nothing sexual about it. Anyway," she said, leaning forward and pulling a string of grapes off the top of a pile of fruit, "even if I did fancy her, which I don't, at least she's got some bloody class. Unlike that Scottish skank you're dating." She put a grape in her mouth and start chewing, insolently.

"What did you say?!" Olivia said. Her eyes had turned to ice.

"I said, a skank. Meaning, a lady of loose morals. Or, colloquially, a common, vulgar little slut - "

She shrieked as a wave of ice-cold water hit her in the face. 

"Sorry," Olivia hissed, a water jug dangling from her fist, "my hand slipped."

Philly grabbed hold of another jug and hurled the water over Olivia's blouse.

"So did mine!" she shouted.

Enraged, Olivia grabbed hold of one of the tablecloths and pulled it off the table, sending fruit bouncing across the carpet. She thumped Philly with it. Philly, in turn, hooked a foot behind Olivia's and tripped her up. Olivia yelped as her glasses went flying. Philly landed on top of her. Olivia grabbed hold of her hair, and yelled as Philly grabbed hers.

"What the fuck were you texting about, bitch?" Philly yelled. "Was it about Mal? Was it?"

"Fuck off, I was texting Jamie! Let go of me, Jane fucking May!"

"Fucking freak! You wait until the tabloids hear about you and that piece of Motherwell trash - "

"Oh, aye?" drawled a voice. "An' who would that be?"

"Um," Philly said, stopping dead in her tracks. Jamie stood in the doorway. She grinned wickedly, and cracked her knuckles.

"N - nobody important. Excuse me," Philly whimpered. She stood up, slightly unsteadily, and ran out of the room.

Jamie walked over, and helped Olivia to her feet. She kissed her.

"I only just found out she was here," she whispered. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I've told Terry never to allow her in the building again."

 

Jamie arranged for the meeting to be rescheduled to another room, with more iced water and more fruit. Mal didn't arrive, and as time went on it became clear that she wasn't coming. Finally, as the delegates filed out, Jamie and Olivia walked hand in hand towards her office. The door was closed, and they whispered in a huddle, wondering whether to knock.

Lady Juliet Nicholson approached the door, carrying a file.

"Ah...I wouldnae go in there, love," Jamie said.

"Really, I wouldn't," Olivia said. "She's likely to kill anyone who does."

Juliet sighed. There was a pause. And then she straightened her back.

"Is that so?" she said, with sad dignity. "At this point, I wouldn't care if she did. And even if she did, then, well...at least I'd be in the company of the woman I...excuse me."

She opened the door, stepped in, and closed it behind her. Mal was sitting at her desk, her head in her hands. Gradually, she looked up. Her face was streaked with black mascara, and tears. Juliet dropped her file.

"Oh, darling," she gasped, and ran to her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal's in a confessional mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect many tears and much use of the "c" word. Possible TW - childlessness.

Juliet grabbed a swivel chair and dragged it next to a sobbing Mal. She sat down on it, then, showing a distinct lack of regard for her own safety, she embraced as much of the other woman's skinny upper frame as she could reach. After a while, it seemed to have an effect; Mal eventually leaned her head against Juliet's upper arm.

"There, there," Juliet cooed. She could feel warm tears starting to seep through the sleeve of her jacket, and her own eyes started welling up. She rocked Mal back and forth. Mal's breathing gradually returned to normal, with just the faintest of catches. Juliet reached into her inside pocket.

"Do help yourself to my handkerchief," she said, handing her a white square of fine linen, with a lilac "J" in the corner. Mal stared at it.

"Fuckin' monogrammed," she said, but the fire in her voice had gone out. She wiped her eyes. Juliet noticed that they had turned a truly startling shade of green. She laid a hand on Mal's shoulder.

"What is it, Malina? Please, tell me. You sound most distressed."

"I'm...I'm nae pregnant..." Mal gasped. A fresh tear rolled down her cheek.

"Oh, my dearest," Juliet said, her heart racing. "You've had a miscarriage? How dreadful for you..." Her lower lip started quivering, and it took all of her famous self-possession to get it back under control.

"Nah...I didnae..." Mal said. She took several deep breaths and composed herself.

"I...wasnae pregnant to begin with. Really thought I was, though. Had a knee-trembler with Nick Murray eight weeks ago in his fuckin' office."

"A...knee-trembler?"

"Sorry. Forget ye don't do slang. Means a fuck. Well, I knew it wouldnae be Sammy's, we're always careful, but Nick and I got carried away by the moment, didnae bother with a condom."

"I'm sorry, you and...Samuel...?" Juliet said, her back prickling.

"Aye. We're in a relationship. Surprised ye didnae pick that up."

"I see," Juliet said, her heart splintering ever so slightly. Still, she thought, at least he deserves her. There is that. Yes.

"...Anyway, that's all by the by. Thing was, I missed my fuckin' period. An' I've always been regular as clockwork. Ye could have set Big Ben to me. So, I went tae the doctor, had the tests, he looked up me with a fuckin' uncomfortable speculum, and there was never a baby in there. Ye know that time I puked up my guts in front of ye? That was just food poisoning from a dodgy fuckin' kebab the night before."

She paused, looking down at her lap. Juliet hugged her tighter.

"There's something else, isn't there? I can hear it in your voice. Please, just tell me, dearest Mal."

"Don't ye know? First ever late period? Means I'm gettin' irregular. Means I'm becoming...fuckin' menopausal," Mal said, spitting out the term like a curse. "An'..." she said, the tears beginning to course down her face again, "I really fuckin' want tae have a baby. Always did. But my fuckin' job, I never had the fuckin' time, and it's too fuckin' late, now."

"Oh, love," Juliet said, hugging her. Mal twisted her head and glared at her.

"Ye think I'm a cunt, don't ye?"

"No!" Juliet squeaked. "Absolutely not! I have never, not for one instant, thought you were a...well, what you just said I thought you were..."

"An' ye'd be right," Mal said, sadly. "I've been a cunt to ye - "

Juliet shook her head emphatically.

"I've been a cunt tae poor old fuckin' Glenda. I punched her at the conference in Eastbourne, nearly broke her fuckin' nose. She didnae deserve that. An' I've been a cunt tae Terry. Again, he doesnae deserve that. He does quite a good job, really, in the fuckin' impossible circumstances. I've been a cunt tae Nick. D'ye know, I fuckin' screamed at him when I thought he'd got me up the duff, just 'cos I thought it would fuck up next year's conference? Christ. I wish he fuckin' had. I've been a cunt tae Jamie and Olivia, but they kind of deserve it. An' I've been a cunt tae Bernice. She definitely deserves it, though."

She wiped her eyes again, smearing black mascara over it. 

"Yeah. I'm a cunt, alreet. Doesnae stop me wantin' to have a baby."

"Well..." Juliet said. She cleared her throat. "Do you know for certain that you're going through the menopause? It's not unheard of for women to conceive in their late 40s, or even 50s, sometimes. And have you ever discussed the possibility with...Samuel?"

Mal snorted.

"He's a young fuckin' guy. OK, he's lovely, I love him, he loves me, but he's nae gonna want tae stick around, is he? Why would I ruin his fuckin' life like that?"

"No!" Juliet shouted. "Why would he want to leave? Why would he ever want to leave you?"

Mal stared at her, head on one side, tear-washed eyes wide open. Juliet had never seen her looking so beautiful, streaked make-up and all.

"If I was with you," Juliet said, her voice breaking, "I'd never leave your side. Not for one moment. I love you, Malina. I've loved you since the moment we met."

There was a pause. The air grew heavy between them. As if in a dream, Juliet saw Mal lean towards her, then felt Mal's lips touch hers. Fireworks went off in her head.

After a while, Mal withdrew. She took Juliet's hand in hers, and she smiled.

"Well," she said, quietly. "I...I didnae totally fuckin' hate that."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Hallowe'en! Jamie and Olivia go to a party, whilst Mal and Sam have a talk.

Olivia leaned back in the foam-filled bath and gazed up at the ceiling.

"C'mon Jamie," she said, "let's go out."

She flinched as Jamie, seated opposite her with their legs tangling, threw a yellow rubber duck at her. It squeaked as it hit the edge of the bath before splashing into the lavender scented froth.

"During Hallowe'en, Mermaid? Do me a fuckin' favour! Everything's gonna be massively overpriced. Nah. Let's have a night in, couple of bottles of red each, Rocky Horror on the widescreen. Ye know ye like it, pet. Ye look like Frank N' Furter's fuckin' sister, anyway."

"Yeah, you always say that!" Olivia said. "Alright, maybe later. But we don't go out enough! Besides," she said, leaning forward and sporting her naughtiest grin, "who knows who we might meet, eh?"

Jamie laughed, took hold of her face and kissed her.

"Welll, now ye put it like that...but there's something more pressin' now, isn't there?"

"Which is?"

"Where the fuckin' soap's gone. I'll just hunt fer it, shall I...?"

On the other side of town, Sam brushed his hair out of his eyes and gazed at Mal.

"Are you OK?"

Mal, sitting on the sofa next to him, turned her head.

"I...well. Nae really. I want tae talk tae ye about something. Well, two things, actually."

Sam nodded, swallowing hard.

"See, the thing we've got is lovely an' all, but...oh, shit! I should've told ye, a long time ago..."

"Shh. It's OK," Sam said, reaching out to stroke her hair, "whatever you've got to say, just say it."

"How do I look?" Olivia said later, as she and Jamie queued outside the club.

Jamie, a huge black and red cape hiding her basque, knickers and stockings, looked her up and down. 

"Like ye're about to grow fuckin' bat wings an' flap away tae the moon," she said.

Olivia, dressed in her very short maid's outfit, complete with high heels and fishnet stockings, pouted down at her and gestured to her wildly-backcombed mane of hair.

"But I look good as Magenta!" she whined.

"Ah, I was only kiddin'. Ye know I love yer legs," she said, running her hand up Olivia's thigh. "And yer arse," she added, running her hand further up and patting. "Ye're way too tall to be like her, though."

"Fucking cheek! Anyway, you're way too short to be Frankie. Even in those heels!"

"Move along there, ladies," said a nearby bouncer, glaring at them.

"Go in?" Olivia said.

"Yeah. Think we'd better."

Later still, they were dancing together in the heaving club, Jamie's face level with Olivia's breasts.

"Reminds me," Olivia shouted, "of the night we got together. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Jamie hollered. "How could I ever forget?"

"Yeah!" Olivia yelled, just as the record ended. "We ended up in bed!"

Several people turned around and stared at her. Her face flushed. Jamie laughed. Raucous sirens and a kicking bassline sounded over the PA.

"Aw, 'Blockbuster'! Fuckin' great!" Jamie yelped.

They stomped along to the track, pinned together by the crowd, singing in unison, 'We just haven't got a clue WHAT to do,' at the crucial moment, and, in a classic tango move, Jamie tipped Olivia backwards, leaned forward and kissed her.

"I love ye," she mouthed.

"Love you too," Olivia mouthed back.

They looked around them. The club was filled with people dressed as witches, ghosts, demons and sexy cats. A man made up to look like half his face was missing pushed past them.

"Ugh," Olivia said, "that's horrible!"

"Ye're kiddin'," Jamie said, eyes wide, "tha's brilliant. I'll get ye watchin' 'Saw' yet, love."

"You'll have to get me drunk first!"

"Aye. Suits me. You're so fuckin' cute when ye're drunk."

'Blockbuster' thumped away into the distance. David Bowie's 'The Jean Genie' started playing. Olivia glanced towards the stage, then did a double-take.

"Jamie..." she gasped, gesturing.

"Aye, darlin'?" Jamie said, grinning. She looked over towards the stage, and her mouth dropped open.

"Wow," she said, after a pause. "Well. So glad I fuckin' agreed tae go out, love. This is gonna be very, very interestin'..."

To be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

All eyes, it seemed, were turning towards the stage, and the crowd broke off from their dancing to watch. A tall figure, dressed in a basque, a glittering black top hat, a purple frock coat, thigh-length boots and a tiny pair of tight black hotpants, was twirling expertly around a candy-striped pole. They paused, mid-air, grandly gesturing with one hand, heels taut against the pole, before expertly gyrating and wrapping their long, shapely legs around it. They took off their top hat with a flourish, showering the audience with glitter and sending their indigo-black hair tumbling down their back. 

"Fuck me," Jamie shouted over the music, "they're fuckin' beautiful."

"God, yeah," Olivia yelled back.

"Would ye like them tae come back wi' us tonight?" Jamie hollered, arm sliding around Olivia's waist.

Olivia bent down and kissed her eagerly in response.

 

Sam rubbed Mal's back. Mal opened and closed her mouth a few times, before finally finding the breath to speak.

"I've...I've always wanted children, Sammy. There, I've fuckin' said it."

Sam opened his mouth to speak. Mal pressed a long, red-taloned finger against his lips.

"If...if ye don't, if ye wanna leave, I'll understand. I'm nae gettin' any younger. I don't wanna ruin yer life, sweetheart. An..." she said, her eyes filling up, "Juliet. She loves me. An' I love her, too. I think. But I love ye too, darlin', an' I always will. Oh, Chreest..." she said, her eyes welling up, "this is such a fuckin' mess. What d'ye think, Sammy? Eh? What d'ye think?"

Sam leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Wait here," he said, then rose and walked to the kitchen. Mal watched him, her heart thumping.

 

Later on, Jamie and Olivia were at the bar, waiting to be served, when someone tapped them on the shoulder. They turned, and all but squeaked to see the beautiful stranger from the stage behind them. Their deep red lips parted slowly into a smile, white teeth glinting in the dim light.

"Hi, ladies," the figure said, with a teasing wink of their glittery fake eyelashes and a voice of deep plush velvet, "can I get you a drink?"

"Aye," Jamie said, awestruck, "some shots, love?"

Several rounds later, they were dancing, and singing, arms around each other. Hidden in the throng, the stranger kissed Jamie, then Jamie kissed Olivia, then Olivia kissed the stranger. It felt to Jamie and Olivia like they'd fallen back to a louder, more reckless, more colourful time, and, by mute consent, they were damn well going to enjoy it.

Heels clicking on the pavement, frozen breath in the street outside, a taxi back to Jamie's place. They stumbled through the door, and up the stairs together, into the bedroom, still snogging one another. Jamie ran a hand down the stranger's basque, and further down, until she started unzipping those impossibly tight hotpants. And then she felt something large and unmistakable springing free from their clutches.

"Ah," she said, hand cupping the stranger's cock. "I did fuckin' wonder..."

The stranger raised his finely-arched eyebrows.

"Is that OK with you?"

"Course it fuckin' is, love. Got any condoms?"

The stranger reached into the top of his basque and drew one out.

"I never leave the house without one."

"Bet you don't," Olivia sighed, flinging her arms around him and kissing him. 

"Aye," Jamie said, "What's yer name, by the way, pet?"

"Harry," gasped the stranger, once Olivia had released him.

"Nice tae meet ye, Harry."

 

"Good idea of yours, love," Jamie said later, straddling Harry's face, scarlet lips parted. "Long tongue. Might wanna keep this one."

Olivia, straddling Harry's cock, could only moan in response, as she felt two sets of hands stroking her all over. Jamie gazed down to where their bodies joined, then slid the pad of her right thumb against Olivia's nub, letting the rocking bodies work their magic. Olivia moaned.

"Come fer me, darlin'," Jamie gasped, "I'm fuckin' close meself..."

 

Mal frowned in consternation as Sam returned with two glasses and a bottle of champagne.

"Ye sure, love? That's vintage, that's fer a special occasion..."

Sam grinned as he uncorked the champagne, then poured it into the glasses, before handing one to Mal. He leaned forward and kissed her.

"Yeah," he said.

"Aye? Yeah, what?"

"I mean, yeah, let's do it. I love children, Mal. And I love you more than life itself. I'd love us to have a baby."

"An'...Juliet?"

"Darling," Sam said, "I like her. Very much. I've always liked her. And if you love her, then, well, I love her too."

"Aye? But..." Mal said. It was too much: she burst into tears. Sam put his arm around her shoulders.

"Shhh, darling. I know you're worried. But we don't know if anything will work until we try, do we? Any of us?"

"Aye..." Mal gasped, wiping her eyes. "But, what, what if we can't? At my age?"

Sam laughed.

"I refer the honourable lady to my last comment! We'll try. And try, and try again, if necessary. And if not, we can always adopt. I don't think we'd have any problems. You'd be a wonderful mother, Mal. And you'll always be young and beautiful to me."

"Fuck's sake," Mal said, as she took hold of Sam's hand. But she was smiling.

 

Much later, Jamie and Olivia were lying in a blissful heap on Jamie's huge double bed, Harry snoring contentedly behind them.

"Well, that was fun," Olivia said, snuggling into Jamie's neck.

"Aye," Jamie said, tiredly stroking Olivia's hair. "Y'know, I always thought I'd be fuckin' jealous if we had a threesome, especially with a bloke, but I think I love ye even more, now."

"Mmm," Olivia said, kissing her. "Oh yeah - you wanna watch 'Rocky Horror'? The DVD's already in."

"Oh aye," Jamie said.

They cuddled up together watching the opening sequence, with those luminous red lips onscreen, singing into darkness:

"I wanna go...to the late night, double feature, picture show..."


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glenda's going on a date. Plus, an unwelcome return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible TW: homophobic/abusive language.

5.00pm

Glenda was leaning against the water cooler, sipping from a plastic cup, when Robin walked past her, a stack of files under his arm.

"How's the project going, Robin?" she asked.

Robin turned around, looking mildly surprised.

"Er, not too bad, thanks. Should be finished by six."

"Right. Are - are you doing anything later?"

Robin glanced at the wall clock.

"Not really, why?"

Glenda cleared her throat. A lock of blond hair had fallen down over Robin's right eye, and she couldn't stop staring at it.

"Well, in that case, do you want to come out for a drink later? About 7.30, perhaps?"

"Uh, yeah, OK. Why not?"

"See you later, then," Glenda said, trying to sound nonchalant. Robin smiled at her, uncertainly, before heading off.

6.00pm

Jamie was taking a walk around the streets near Parliament Square, hands deep in her coat pockets, breath frosting in mid-air. Mal had taken a very rare day off, so she was at a bit of a loose end. She turned a corner, and saw the Six Bells at the end of the street, its lights mellow and inviting in the darkness. Maybe I'll duck in for a fuckin' pint, she thought. Text Livvy, see if she wants to come...

"'Ello, ya little Scottish cunt," muttered a voice from the shadows,

"Aye? Who the fuck's that?" Jamie shouted, wheeling around.

She watched as a small, arrogant figure swaggered out from an alleyway towards her, not stopping until the two of them were practically nose-to-nose.

"Ain't ya gonna say 'ello to me?" she said, grinning her customary gloating grin.

"Hi, Caz," Jamie muttered.

"That's better. Shows a bit of fucking manners. Uggh, your fucking breath though," Caz said, wafting a hand in front of her face.

"Aye? What of it?"

"Stinks of fucking fish. Of your fucking girlfriend, ya fucking dyke! Ain't you worried 'bout who she's been with? She's a candidate for the clap clinic if ever there was one!"

"Ya fuckin' bitch!" Jamie hissed. She grabbed the lapels of Caz's jacket. Caz just kept grinning. Jamie wondered if she was actually human, or just a robot programmed for maximum offence.

"Don't ye...don't ye dare fuckin' talk about Livvy like that..." she whispered, nearly in tears.

"Why not?" Caz sneered. "Everyone else does."

Jamie glared at her, whilst the bloodiest, most violent thoughts she'd had in her life flashed through her mind. Then, her grip loosened.

"Ah, what's the fuckin' point? Ye're not worth goin' tae prison for, ya fuckin' no-mark!"

"That's better. Some common-sense at long last. Anyway, 'nough of these pleasantries. I've got a message for your fucking psycho boss."

"Aye? What?"

Caz's grin turned triumphant.

"Tell that Glasgow maniac that the days of that lentil-bothering, yoghurt-weaving, cycling, closet-lefty freak Steffi Pearson are numbered. 'Er career's as dead as 'er fucking marriage. Because I'm. Fucking. Back."

"Aye. I will," Jamie growled. She hoped Caz couldn't detect how fast her heart was beating. She turned her back and walked off. Screw the pub, she thought. I just wanna go home and see Livvy.

"Bye-bye, ya fucking lezza," Caz shouted after her, in her smug, sing-song tones.

Jamie kept walking.

 

6.00pm

"Oh, God," Glenda muttered, as Olivia dabbed foundation across her face, "it's the first time I've had a date in years. I don't feel well."

"Ah," Olivia said breezily, "I hope it's not for the same reason that Mal's feeling sick these days - "

The colour drained from her face. Oh, fuck, she thought. Me and my big mouth. Fuckfuckfuckfuckityfuck...

"Why?" Glenda said, sharply. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's...she's got food poisoning. E-coli, possibly. Apparently, she had to rush out of yesterday's meeting three times in order to - "

Glenda waved a hand in the air.

"OK, OK, there's no need to go into details, Oli! I can imagine, thank you very much!"

"Quite. Hold still."

Olivia smoothed foundation across Glenda's cheeks with a cosmetic sponge, then leaned back, admiring her handiwork.

"Oh, look at you. Glamorous already," she cooed.

"Um. Thanks. What do you think - glasses off, or on?"

"Wellll, that depends. You look a bit stern with them on. A bit sexy-secretary, a bit dominant. A bit Glenda-in-the-streets, Xena-in-the-sheets? Is that the kind of thing he's into?" She giggled.

Glenda's cheeks flushed.

"I've really no idea, Oli. We're just going for a drink. Not everyone leaps into bed with someone after a first date, you know!"

"Would you be referring to me, by any chance?" Olivia said, pouting.

"Yes, I am, you notorious slapper!"

"Ah, well, I'm a changed woman, now. Mostly, anyway," Olivia said, applying blusher to Glenda's cheeks. "And watch your lip, or I'll make you look like a clown."

"Oh, I was only joking, Oli. Oh, I didn't ask - how's it going with Jamie?"

"Good. It's good, Glenda."

Glenda saw Olivia's serene smile reflected in the mirror, and she smiled, too.

"That's nice to hear. Oh, God. I'm so nervous, Oli. You couldn't steal some of Nick's herbal remedy for me, could you?"

 

7.30pm

Olivia returned to her flat, to find Jamie waiting for her at the front door.

"Oh God, love," Olivia said, seeing her expression, "what's wrong?"

"Christ, Livvy," Jamie whimpered, tears beginning to stream down her face. "She's back."

"Who? Who's back?"

"The Fucker..."

Olivia embraced her.

"Oh love," she whispered. "Don't worry. Come on, let's go in."


	21. Chapter 21

"That's it," Olivia murmured half an hour later, as Jamie, sitting in her foam-filled bath, tipped her head back, allowing her to sluice warm water from the shower head through her hair.

"Christ, Livvy," Jamie said, her eyes closed, "that woman's a total fuckin' cunt."

"Agreed," Olivia said, "affirmative on that. I think that's the last of the conditioner out, now."

"Livvy?" Jamie said, her huge blue eyes flicking open again.

"Yes, love?" Olivia said, stroking Jamie's slippery shoulder.

"Would ye...just hold me? I just want tae fuckin' float here, fer a bit."

"Of course, Jay," Olivia said.

She knelt behind the free-standing bath tub, embracing Jamie's torso, her dry cheek pressed to Jamie's damp one, a long section of her curly dark hair trailing in the foam. Jamie relaxed back into her warmth, letting her mind drift, their slowing breathing the only sound in the warm, softly lit bathroom.

 

Glenda reached into her bag and drew out her tiny hand mirror, nervously checking her make-up. Olivia had done a pretty good job, she mused. She blinked, trying to get used to her new contacts: she felt naked and vulnerable without her glasses. She hoped her winged eye make up wouldn't run, that her neat bob wouldn't start frizzing in the humid London air.

Glenda checked her watch. Time to go. She took a deep breath as she stepped through the door, muttering a curse as a drop of rain splashed against her cheek.

 

Mal and Sam were sitting together on the sofa, kissing deeply, until Mal broke the kiss and clambered up onto Sam's lap.

"What d'ye think, darlin'?" she whispered. "Shall we start tryin' fer a baby, right now?"

Sam kissed the tip of Mal's fine, aquiline nose.

"I think that's an excellent idea," he murmured. Mal flashed a vulpine grin.

"Get all the fuckin' in, too, before mae body repulses ye. That's gonna be fun!"

"Oh, darling," Sam sighed, "I love your body. You know I do. You'd look even sexier pregnant, I know you would."

"An' afterwards? When I'm all fuckin' grey and sagging an' covered in stretchmarks, at the age of 50? No, fuck, I'd be fuckin' 51 by the time it's born..."

"Your body," Sam breathed in her ear, "is made of light. You'll always be beautiful to me."

"Daft fuckin' lad," Mal said, kissing him. "What the fuck did I do, tae deserve ye? Did I suck off a fuckin' deity in a previous life?"

Sam loosened the tie of Mal's silk scarlet gown in response and slipped it off her shoulders. Mal reached down and undid Sam's trousers, then pulled down the elastic of his boxer shorts, releasing him. She sank down, engulfing his stiff length, and they both gasped.

"OK, this sort of thing probably fuckin' helped," she murmured. Sam embraced her torso and kissed her.

 

Later on, Jamie and Olivia were sprawled naked across Olivia's huge, crimson-sheeted brass bed, kissing one another.

"Love?" Jamie murmured, "can we do somethin' a bit different tonight?"

"Of course, love. Just name it."

"Could ye tie me up, this time?"

"Really?" Olivia said, raising her eyebrows as she caressed Jamie's hair. "Role-reversal?"

"Aye. Why not? Good tae experiment. I mean I don't usually like cocks, but Harry's was a fuckin' excellent exception."

"Mmm. Good point," Olivia said, kissing her, "It's just, what's brought this on all of a sudden?"

"I...I dunno. Just seein' that fuckin' cow, havin' her abusin' me, just...just brought mae fuckin' schooldays back, ye know? An'...I just wanna feel safe," Jamie said. 

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Olivia embraced her, and started rocking her back and forth.

"Ah. Yeah, I understand."

 

Glenda arrived at the venue, slightly out of breath, and for the fifth time she checked the hand mirror. No major damage done, she thought. She looked inside and saw the chairs arranged around the tables. Her heart sank as she realised Robin had invited her to an Italian restaurant. God, she thought, if I eat anything it's bound to land on my dress. Absolutely fucking bound to. She smiled bravely, and pushed open the door. Robin saw her and stood, all smiles, ushering her towards the table.

"Well. This is nice," Glenda said, for about the tenth time. Robin fiddled nervously with the menu.

"Now...what shall we have?" he asked, reaching up to his inner jacket pocket to check for something.

Something non-drippy, Glenda thought. Something innocuous. No garlic bread, that's a complete no-no. Or pasta. Or pizza. Or soup. Salad's a minefield, with all that dressing. God. Italian food is lovely but it's not the neatest, she thought, perusing the menu unhappily. 

Robin's already wide eyes suddenly widened further, and his lower lip sagged in dismay.

"Um, Glenda?"

"Yes?" Glenda said, her heart fluttering. God, she thought, have I fucked up already? Is this some sort of record for me?

Robin gulped.

"I'm really sorry," he said, "but...I've forgotten my fucking wallet!"


	22. Chapter 22

Olivia lit the last of the candles, then turned out the bedside light.

"God, look at you," she said, breathily, "you look so gorgeous."

Jamie, secured to the bars of Olivia's bed by two sets of black velvet cuffs, the soft light gleaming on her pale skin, smiled up at her. She tried to move, but she was held fast. She decided she liked it.

"In fer a wild ride, eh?" she said, grinning wickedly as her lover bent over and kissed her, long coils of dark hair trailing over the sensitive, petal-soft skin of her breasts.

"I'd say," Olivia whispered, and Jamie shivered with pleasure as a long hand stroked down her right inner thigh.

 

"Well," Glenda said, gazing around helplessly at the terrible art on the restaurant walls, "it's certainly been a long time since I've shared a meal with someone. I didn't think...I just left my cards at home. I hope that change's going to be enough?"

"Yeah," Robin said uncomfortably, "Please, don't worry about it. I'll pay you back. I thought I'd put my wallet in my pocket, but..."

He reached into his pocket and drew out a place mat, smiling apologetically. Glenda couldn't help but laugh.

"Still," Robin said, "I suppose it's better than finding out at the end, and having to do all the washing-up, I suppose."

Glenda looked thoughtful.

"Has that ever actually happened, outside of 1960s sitcoms?"

"Don't think so. Although, if I did have to do the washing-up, ummm...it wouldn't be so bad...if I was doing it with you."

Robin blushed. Glenda found it very engaging.

 

"Christ, Livvy!" Jamie gasped, her back arching off the bed as Olivia took each of her toes in turn into her mouth and sucked and licked them with agonizing slowness, "what is it about mae fuckin' feet ye find so attractive?!"

"They're yours," Olivia said breathily, licking Jamie's instep. "God, Jamie, I want to worship every inch of you."

"Sounds good to me. Ohhh, fuck..." Jamie gasped, as Olivia trailed a line of kisses up her thigh. She held her breath, then writhed in frustration as the kisses swerved away from her crotch and continued up her torso.

"Fuckin' tease, aren't ye?" Jamie moaned.

"That..." Olivia said, in between mouthfuls of Jamie's stiff, enticing and reddened nipples, "is exactly...the reason...that you like me."

"Aye. It is!"

Robin looked up from where his hands nervously lay his lap and gazed towards the restaurant kitchens.

"Ah," he said, "here it comes now."

Glenda smiled bravely as she watched the waiter approach their table with an enormous, heaped plateful of spaghetti and meatballs. Oh well, she thought. If he's not put off by seeing me eat this, he's probably interested. And at least I can stuff the diet, just for one evening. Her tummy rumbled appreciatively; it really did look very nice. Maybe I could have some garlic bread, too, she thought. Oh hell, not the garlic bread! He wouldn't want to kiss me afterwards... 

"Jesus, love," Jamie moaned, panting as she pulled against her restraints, "this is fuckin' killing me. Another one! Pleeeease!" 

Olivia kissed her. 

"Whatever you want," she whispered, as she slowly slid a fourth finger inside Jamies's gushing depths, gazing up at her lover's ecstatic face. Jamie arched her back, trying to engulf Olivia's long, fine fingers, her pulse thudding in her ears. Olivia kissed her again. 

"Do you want to come, my love?" she whispered. Jamie nodded, speechless, lips parted. Olivia curled her fingers upwards and Jamie screamed, nearly arching off the bed, clenching hard around Olivia's hand. 

Jamie lay panting as Olivia released the cuffs, then rubbed her wrists and ankles. She craned her neck and grinned at her. 

"That wasnae fuckin' bad, love," she said. "Three times. Pretty fuckin' impressive. Bet I can beat that, though." 

"Oh, yeah?" Olivia said, raising her eyebrows, "is that a challenge?"

"Aye. I'm going tae fuck ye till your teeth rattle!"

Olivia squealed with delight as Jamie pounced and pinned her wrists against the bed.

"And then," Glenda said later, between mouthfuls, "they found out the room had been bugged all along!" 

"Mmm," Robin said, his mouth full, "and then what happened?"

"'Scuse me," Glenda said, reeling in a section of spaghetti with her lips. Robin did the same. And then suddenly their lips met in the middle.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her name is Adele Kenyon, and she's bloody annoyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU is set, roughly, in Series 3 of TTOI, so Adele/Adam and Angela/Andy are still working for The Mail.

One month later

It was late evening at The Mail's offices in Canary Wharf. Lithe, sneering Andy Heaney leaned back against the wall, twirling his journalist's identity badge around and around by its slim sliver chain, until it began to seriously annoy the occupant of the nearest desk.

"Do you mind?" Adele Kenyon snapped, turning her office chair around. "You'll have my bloody eye out with that thing in a minute!"

"Bollocks," Andy said, with his constant, trademark smirk, "I'm ten feet away, in the safe zone. There's no need to panic."

"Yeah, well I need my eyesight intact in order to do my fucking job, alright?" Adele said, glaring at him.

Scowling, she turned back to her screen and started scrolling.

"Something's got to be happening, for Christ's sake."

The phone rang.

"And it looks like the Universe has just responded," Andy said, grinning.

Adele ignored him as she grabbed hold of the receiver.

"Hello? Adele Kenyon, The Mail?"

"Oh, hi," she heard down the line, "It's Philly Smith here."

"Oh yeah?" Adele said, "Really? Who the fuck are you, then?"

"Um, I'm, Philomena Smith. I'm the adviser to Peta Mannion, Member of Parliament for the Opposition. I'm, I'm pretty important, actually," Philly said, her voice tailing off into a squeak.

"Yeah, right. Do you have a story, then? Because we're fucking busy here! And this had better be important, or I'll send Simone Hewitt and all her busy little elves after you, alright?", Adele said, her fists clenching.

"Ah...I've got what you might call a scoop...Adele," Philly said.

Adele rolled her eyes.

"OK. I'll pretend that I'm interested. What is it?"

"Well...did you know that Olivia Reeder, DoSAC advisor, and Jamie MacDonald, DoSAC Press Officer, are in a lesbian relationship?"

"And...?" Adele said.

"Well, I'm just saying that this could be a story. Might inflame Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells when they find out their hard-earned taxpayers' money is spent on funding girl-on-girl nookie in the corridors of power...?"

"OK," Adele said, rubbing her eyes, an expression of infinite weariness spreading across her pretty yet pinched features, "even supposing our readers are that fucking stupid, it's really not that much of a story, now, is it? I mean, what else do you have for me? Nick Murray's shocking four-a-day Quiet Life tablet habit? Terry Coverley eating a cheeseburger now and again? One of the cleaners taking a Crunchie bar from Bernice Swain's secret drawer without asking her first?"

"Oh, God," Philly squeaked, "you know about the drawer?"

"Yeah. Malina Tucker told me, in a chat after a press conference. No, we're not going to run the story. It's both boring and irrelevant, like your fucking boss!"

Adele heard Philly's affronted gasp down the line, and smiled for the first time that evening.

"Unless, that is, you can get us some pictures of them cavorting in a sex club. Or - and I'm taking a wild punt here - Malina Tucker, secretly and in my view irresponsibly pregnant at the age of 50 and in an open relationship with two or more people? Now, that might surprise a few people, get 'em talking in the shires. If it's not as interesting as that, don't bother phoning again, because quite frankly I'd rather stick forks in my eyes than ever talk to you again, OK?"

Adele slammed the phone down, then looked across at Andy.

"Not that I wouldn't want to wreck that Reeder bitch's career, after she fucked up our leadership coverage. Remember that?"

"Hmm," Andy said. "I was just remembering, she used to insist that I dressed up in lingerie before she and I had sex. Didn't do a thing for me, but she seemed to like it. I suppose it all makes sense, now."

"Yeah," Adele snarled, "Put a long wig on you, nobody could tell the two of you apart. And no thanks for that horrible mental image."

Andy's grin faded. The phone rang again.

"Oh, fuck," Adele sighed, seeing the number on the phone display. She picked up the receiver.

"Hi, Fergie," she said, resignedly. Andy could just about hear a shrill caterwauling down the line.

"Yes, yes, of course I will...just like we agreed, yeah...we'll get into power again, just as soon as this shower gets voted out...well, never mind how, just trust me..."

Adele stared at the receiver. Fergie Williams had slammed the phone down on her mid-sentence. She noted with surprise that there was a pink stress ball on her desk.

"Where the fuck did this come from?!" she blustered. "Does someone think we're all fucking kids or something?"

"Ah, Simone Hewitt sent them to the office. She thought we could all do with them. She's got a point, actually. You're really quite snappy at the moment. Could you be short of iron, do you think?" Andy said, edging towards the door.

"What?! Are you suggesting I've got PMT?! Like you'd know, you smug, lanky streak of piss!" Adele screamed.

"OK, OK!" Andy said, raising his hands, palms upwards. "I'll leave you alone!"

He bolted through the door. Adele, enraged, hurled the stress ball at the noticeboard. It bounced off a yellowing newsprint photo of Malina Tucker and Nick Murray who were smiling for the cameras as if they hadn't got a care in the world.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to the memory of the great Sir Terry Pratchett, Discworld and his wonderful witches, and also to a late friend of mine who loved Granny Weatherwax.

Mal glared at Glenda and Olivia as she pulled absently at a loose piece of wool at the base of her scarlet cardigan.

"What I'm sayin' is, ye need tae put a whole fuckload more effort into this, ye know? Rub yer clits together and generate some fuckin' energy, yeah?"

"Well, thank you for that helpful suggestion, Mal," Glenda said. "The thing is - " 

"Aye? What is it, Granny Fuckin' Weatherwax?" Mal spat.

"Well, I actually love Granny Weatherwax, so that's quite a compliment," Glenda said, evenly. "I just wanted to bring to your attention the fact that you seem to be unravelling your cardigan."

Mal glared down at herself. Sure enough, the thread of wool in her clenched right fist was now trailing across on the floor in coils, and the left side of her cardigan looked shorter. She opened her mouth to speak, and then Olivia's mobile phone peeped.

"Fuck's sake!" Mal shouted, rounding on her, "Have ye even listened to a single fuckin' word I've said, ye useless tart? Can't ye stop sexting yer girlfriend for five fuckin' minutes?"

"It would seem not," Olivia said, looking up from her phone screen.

Mal snatched the phone out of her hands by way of response.

"What the fuck is this?" she snarled, gazing at the screen, and a video of a tabby cat and her kitten snuggling down to sleep on a purple velvet cushion, pressed against each other.

"Just a social media post. I think that one's quite sweet," Olivia said. 

All of a sudden, Mal's face changed. To Olivia and Glenda's amazement, her lower lip started trembling and her blue-green eyes filled with tears.

"Ah...excuse me a wee moment. Ye'd better have this," Mal said, handing the phone carefully back to Olivia. Heels clicking on the carpet, she hurried out of the meeting room, slamming the door behind her. 

"What's wrong with her?" Olivia said, nonplussed.

"No idea. I have to say, her suggestion on how we could drum up some energy sounded most impractical. I mean, is that even a thing?" Glenda said.

"Yeah, it is," Olivia said, twirling a long section of her dark curly hair around a forefinger as she read her messages. "It's called tribadism, and it's fucking wonderful. Although it does carry a small but significant risk of being accidentally kicked in the face, so it's vitally important the participants don't wear shoes."

"Hmm. Sounds a bit like martial arts. Well. I learn something new every day," Glenda said, amused. "What are you reading, by the way?"

Olivia glanced up from the screen and gave Glenda a look.

"Never you mind. And what about Robin, then? Has he cleared away your cobwebs with his little brush yet?"

"Ah...point taken. Er, no. I've not encountered his, well, brush, yet. Just some kisses and cuddles," Glenda said, her face reddening. "And what are you grinning at, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing," Olivia said, eyes scanning the screen.

"Hang on," Glenda said, frowning, "did you just say, 'cobwebs'?"

"Later," Olivia said, "I'm busy."

She read the message again.

"Hi darlin  
Got a surprise for you later. Cos you've been a bad girl.  
Seeya xxxxxxx"

Smiling, Olivia texted back:

"Yes please! xxxxxxx"


	25. Chapter 25

Later that evening

Olivia carefully painted her lips into a crimson heart of lipstick, fluffed out her already wild mane of curls even more before blasting them with hairspray, and stood back to admire her reflection in Jamie's full length bathroom mirror. A black leather miniskirt that displayed her very long, fishnet-stockinged legs, a midnight-blue corseted top, long black satin gloves, sparkling violet eyeshadow with long black false eyelashes that accentuated her clear, beautiful eyes: yeah, I look good, she thought, in a escapee-from-an-80s-pop-video sort of way. Jamie had asked her to dress up as trashily as possible, and she'd succeeded. She nodded, lips parted, as she left the bathroom and teetered over on skyscraper heels to her lover's bedroom.

"Surprise!" Jamie said, grinning wildly as Olivia walked in. Olivia did an impressive double-take.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Jamie! What the - !"

"Yeah," Jamie said, "An' we're goin' tae, darlin'. What do ye think?!" she said, twirling.

"Are you really wearing a..."

"Yeah! It's a fuckin' nun's habit. Ye know about mae fuckin' disastrous time in the convent - wellllll, I appropriated the costume. It was never this fuckin' short, I had it taken up."

The habit stopped halfway up Jamie's beautifully curvaceous thighs, resplendent in black thigh-length boots. Jamie's lips were painted into a scarlet Cupid's bow, her enormous blue eyes were lined with kohl, and a few black curls peeped out, Betty Boop-fashion, from beneath her wimple. She would have looked adorable, were it not for the vicious-looking black leather tawse she was gripping in her right hand. Olivia exhaled appreciatively. 

"I'll take that as a fuckin' yes. An' what about this fucker, then?" Jamie said, gesturing. "It arrived today."

Olivia tottered forward - like a filly, Jamie thought, like a fuckin' lovely filly - and reached out a long, trembling hand to touch the smooth, padded black leather. 

"A punishment cross," she said, "nice one."

She placed her palms near the top of the cross, then turned her head and gazed kittenishly at Jamie.

"You'd better cuff me, then. Need a stepladder?"

"Fuck off, darlin'," Jamie said affectionately, craning upwards to kiss the back of Olivia's bare shoulder. Olivia shuddered with pleasure as she felt the tip of Jamie's previously-hidden strap-on pressing against her crotch. She knew Jamie was in the mood to ride her good and hard.

 

Meanwhile, Mal, who had been sitting for hours into a meeting that showed no sign of stopping, rubbed her eyes, smearing her mascara. She looked at the delegates sitting around the table and felt an overpowering urge to go home. She took her Blackberry carefully out of her top pocket and texted Juliet:

"Hiya. Want to come to the toilet with me?"

A few seconds passed, then her Blackberry vibrated. She looked down.

"??? J"

Mal texted back:

"Sorry but this is really important. Five minutes, tops. Thanks love xxx"

They excused themselves, ignoring Nikki Hanway's muttered "But we haven't even fucking started yet", and left the meeting room.

 

Jamie thrust forward, gripping Olivia's hair with her left hand, slapping her supple arse with the tawse with the right.

"Anything else ye'd like tae confess, love?!" she ground out. Olivia bucked against her, wrists straining against the cuffs, and she groaned; Christ, she was close.

"Ohhh, fuck!" Olivia shrieked, "I love you, Jamie! Oh my God...!"

"Right fuckin' answer..." Jamie moaned, her moan widening into a yell as she came, too.

 

"Are you alright?" Juliet murmured, leaning back against the wall of the Ladies'.

"Aye. Comin' out now," Mal replied.

The toilet flushed, then Mal unlocked the door and came out. She looked composed, but Juliet could see the storm of emotion in her eyes.

"Would ye mind holdin' this?" Mal said, quietly, handing Juliet the small white plastic stick.

"Of course not," Juliet said, her heart pounding.

Mal washed her hands, then leaned forward, resting her head against a mirror.

"Don't tell me," she said, "OK? Don't fuckin' tell me. Just keep it level. It's..." she said, looking at her watch, "45 seconds to go."

They both held their breath. And then Mal bent forward. Juliet closed her eyes. There was a very long pause.

"Shit," Mal whispered.

Juliet opened her eyes again and watched as Mal's face slowly broke into a smile of pure happiness.

"Fuck me," she murmured. "Look."

Juliet looked, and saw a blue line in the panel, faint, but unmistakable. The future. Mal gripped her hand.

"Cannae believe it," Mal said, her voice breaking with emotion. "I'm...I'm fuckin' pregnant..."


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick Murray is having a rotten day, as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Milo Mallory, Juliet's PA, is the AU, gender-swapped Millicent Mallory, Julius' PA from Silk Stockings, which would explain why he's seducing all the other characters.

Nick Murray stood in the lobby of the Opposition's building, his palms sweating profusely as he waited for the lift. This phobia's ridiculous, I've got to get over it, he thought. In any case, I don't have time to walk up to the fifth floor. Peta Mannion's been pretty decent to me, all things considered, and I don't want to keep her waiting.

The lift doors clicked open, and Nick's eyes widened at the sight of Milo, Juliet's PA, lasciviously kissing a tall, haughty-looking young woman with long dark-blonde hair. Nick had never seen her before. Her short skirt was hitched up, tights and knickers at half-mast, one slender thigh clamped around Milo's semi-naked waist; it was quite obvious what they had just been doing. Milo turned his head and gave him a dazzling smile.

"Oops! Don't mind us," he said.

Nick averted his eyes as the two of them disentangled and dismounted each other.

"There. Off you go, my fine Philly," Milo whispered in the young woman's ear, giving her bottom a playful smack as he did so. She giggled and left, sauntering down the corridor.

"What...what the hell are you doing here?!" Nick spluttered. Milo grinned.

"Just going undercover, you might say!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Nick sighed. "Sleeping with the enemy. For God's sake, can't you keep your shagging for out of hours, like the rest of us?"

"Oh, be fair," Milo said, trailing his fingertips across his jawline and looking him right in the eyes. "You liked it, didn't you? I know you did."

Nick blushed furiously: Milo had him there. He gazed into the tiny, claustrophobic and - now - sex-scented vortex of the lift, and decided that, all things considered, he would rather walk to the fifth floor after all.

 

When Nick arrived back at DoSAC's offices, his heart sank to see the tall, burly figure of Bernice Swain standing next to the water cooler. He muttered a curse as he slunk past her.

"And he's here. DoSAC's very own Mister Cellophane," Bernice sneered to no one in particular, through a mouthful of Twix.

Nick stopped and turned to face her.

"Yeah, thanks for that amazing witticism, Bernice. Do you have anything constructive to say today? Because if you don't, would you kindly fuck off?"

"Well, Minister," Bernice said, chewing, "I'd like to bring to your attention, dreadful though your attention span is, a potentially embarrassing news story."

She reached into her bag and drew out a copy of that morning's Mail with a flourish.

"Wait," Nikki Hanway said, walking over, "this looks like it might be interesting..."

They both looked at the page in silence, and then their faces lit up. They grinned nastily at Nick, looking for all the world like two bitchy schoolgirls sat at the back of a classroom. Nick's heart turned pitch dark with loathing.

"Well, Nick," Bernice said, "it looks like you might need to choose your employees a bit more carefully. Unseemly isn't the word for what's in here. Assuming, that is, that Mal's gonna give you another chance," she said, clearly struggling not to laugh.

"Fuck, yeah," Nikki said. "You should have heard her tearing into Edwina at the Wednesday briefing. She fucking destroyed her."

Face burning, Nick took the newspaper from Bernice's hands.

"What the fuck...what the fuck is he doing?!" Nick gasped. "And oh God, is that Jamie and Olivia with him? Jesus Christ, what's wrong with people in this department? Can't anyone keep it in their fucking pants?!"

"Well, that would include you, according to popular legend," Bernice said, breaking into giggles.

"Excuse me?" said Terry Coverley, advancing out of nowhere with a sloshing mug. "Cup of coffee, Minister? I hope I'm not interrupting anything..."

"Oh Christ! Sorry, this isn't the right time so would you sod off, Terry?" Nick said. He hoped the others wouldn't see how much his brow was sweating.

"Right," Terry said, retreating.

"And it looks like someone else wants a word," Nikki said, gesturing to the glass-sided corner office. Nick could see Stephanie Fleming beckoning towards him, smiling her patented hateful rictus grin. 

Fuck, Nick thought. I've died and gone to hell.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring nobody's favourite bully and creep, Stephanie Fleming.
> 
> 'Foxbase Alpha' by Saint Etienne is an amazing album.

"Ahhh, hello there, Nick," Stephanie Fleming intoned smarmily, beckoning him into her office like a looming spider summoning a fly. "Close the door, would you? Then we could have a little chat-ette about this unfortunate, shall we say, situation?"

Nick pulled the door to behind him. Stephanie's fake smile strained further upwards.

"Now, I don't think that's quite closed, do you, Nick?"

"Sorry," Nick muttered, pulling it until it clicked shut. There was an uncomfortable pause. Stephanie was staring at him a little too intently.

"Uh. How - how are you, Stephanie?"

"Steph!" Stephanie snarled. Nick flinched. "Oh, not so bad," she went on as if nothing had happened. "I've got the fucking builders in, which is a pain. Though, between you and me," she said, pawing at his arm, "one of them told me I've got beautiful eyes yesterday, so there's certain fringe benefits, shall we say?"

Nick glanced at Stephanie's eyes, black buttons filled with rage and hatred, and rather doubted her story. Stephanie took hold of the newspaper on her desk and twisted it around for Nick to look at.

"Do you recognise the person in the centre, Nick?"

"Yeah," Nick said, "Harry Hatley. My PA."

"And I don't think there can be any doubt as to the identity of the two women draped over him?" Stephanie said, waving the newspaper in Nick's face.

"Yes. Jamie MacDonald and Olivia Reeder."

"Precisely. DoSAC's most notorious slags. Escapees from Battersea Dogs' Home," Stephanie said. She chuckled over her non-joke. "Now, don't get me wrong, Nick. I'm a woman of the world. We all have to get our jollies somehow, don't we?"

Nick started as he felt her hand on his thigh. She smiled grotesquely at him.

"Tell me, Nick. Have you ever heard of dogging?"

"Um..." Nick said, "I'm aware of the phenomenon, yes."

"Because I know this great car park near Epping Forest. Lots of fun on a cold night..."

Nick's brow started sweating. Stephanie's hand lingered on his thigh, feeling like a warm, clammy omelette.

"You're - you're surely not suggesting that we actually - are you?!"

"I was JOKING!" Stephanie screamed furiously, standing up, her eyes blazing. "Jesus Christ on a bike, where's your sense of humour, man? What's the matter?"

"I'm...I'm sorry. I just don't like it when people shout at me," Nick mumbled.

Stephanie looked quizzical.

"Shouting? I wasn't shouting. Where on earth did you get that idea? Look. I'm a reasonable woman, Nick. But really, you should be more careful about the people you employ here. Run some checks on them before they're pictured with their hands in the office tarts' knickers, eh?"

"Um, sorry, but I don't like that sort of judgemental language. And it's up to the HR department to run the checks, not me - "

Stephanie slapped the desk with a palm. Nick jumped in fear.

"I don't CARE!" she screamed. "I don't want that FREAK and those SLUTS showing us up again! It's embarrassing! It's inappropriate! And completely unacceptable on every level, you DOZY FUCKER! GET OUT!!" she shrieked in Nick's face.

Nick gathered up his briefcase and fled from her office and down the corridor, past Bernice and Nikki, who were both laughing fit to burst.

 

That evening, Jamie and Olivia were dancing in Jamie's kitchen to 'Foxbase Alpha' by Saint Etienne.

"I never felt so good," Jamie sang, twirling Olivia around by the hand, "I never felt so strong, nothing can stop us now..."

Olivia stumbled against her and the two of them laughed and hugged, delightedly. They kissed, and then Jamie broke away.

"Close yer eyes, love," she whispered. "I'm gonna give you something."

"Oh, yeah? Sounds promising."

Olivia held out her palm, eyes closed, and opened them again as Jamie placed a small box in her palm.

"Open it, sweetheart," Jamie said, kissing her neck.

Olivia opened it to see a silver ring with an aquamarine oval shining in the middle, set into pale blue velvet.

"Matches your eyes," Jamie whispered. "Your fever-bright eyes. Darlin'. Marry me."

Olivia's eyes filled with tears, but she was smiling.

"Oh, yes. Oh, bloody yes!"

They flung their arms around each other and kissed for dear life.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jamie rescues Milo. And Mal gets a surprising result.

Milo didn't know why he'd agreed to go to the launch of Bernice's new book, "All or Nothing: Or Is It Really That Simple?". His boss, Juliet, had secretly gone to the hospital with Mal, and he was there, it had been agreed, to keep an eye on things. The book, Milo realised after a few pages, was meaningless toss, and he found Bernice herself to be sullen, disagreeable and moody without being the slightest bit interesting. Much as he liked Juliet, he was cursing his decision to attend.

And what was worse was the fact that he was backed up against a wall with Caz Richards standing a hair's breadth away from him, boobs in her intermittently gaping, too-tight striped blouse almost touching his tie. She wasn't unattractive, he thought as he gulped nervously, he wouldn't have minded that; it was just that she was so scary. She leered up at him, her lipstick smeared, dark curly hair springing and uncoiling free of what seemed like millions of hair-pins, her wine-sodden, 100-cigarettes-a-day breath hitting his face in fetid blasts every time she talked. And God, could she talk.

"Fing is, I fink you're a very nice lookin' fella, knowworrImean? An' ya've got quite a reputation already, ain't ya? I've got my fuckin' sources sorted, ya might say," she said, poking him repeatedly in the chest for emphasis with the long, pointed fake crimson nail of her right index finger. 

"Sorry," he stammered, "I...I don't know what you mean, er, Carol..."

"Call me Caz, sweet'eart. Well, let us just say you've been caught with your fuckin' cock in the cookie jar, darling! That fucking horse-faced tart Philomena's been gabbing on 'er mobile about yer third-leg overtime shift wiv her in the lift the ovver day! Gave 'er a good gallop an' thrashing with your fucking riding crop, did ya?!"

"Ah..." Milo said, blushing furiously. He was far too polite to tell her to mind her own business; plus, Caz's reputation preceded her, and he was terrified.

"So," she barked, poking him again, "fings being what they are, I should report ya to that fuckin' hoity-toity lesbo bluestocking Lady Juliet Fucking Nicholson for professional misconduct. Alternatively, I could fucking make it all go away. Let's say, we could meet once a week, outside, behind the bins..."

Out of the corner of his eye, Milo could see a small, curvy woman with shoulder-length black curly hair and wearing a clinging red mini-dress striding purposefully towards them. She tapped Caz on the shoulder. Milo wondered at her ability not to flinch as Caz turned around.

"What the fuck are ye doin'?" the woman growled, in a strong Motherwell accent. Caz grinned diabolically.

"Just getting acquainted with this charming gentleman," she said. Milo mouthed the words "help me" at the Scottish woman, and she nodded back.

"Fuckin' harassin' the staff again? Wouldn't be the first fuckin' time, would it?" she growled at Caz. "Fuckin' leave him alone! Milo, isn't it? Come wi' me," she said, taking hold of his arm and leading him off. Milo gratefully followed her.

"You'll 'ave no fun wiv her!" Caz shouted after them. "Good luck plugging the hole in that fucking dyke!"

The woman rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, fuckin' sorry about that fuckin' no-mark. Take it from me, she's a fuckin' bitch. I'm Jamie. Nice tae meet ye," she said, steering him towards a table full of glasses of wine and nibbles.

"Ah, thanks. Milo. Yeah, she's a bit...full-on, isn't she?" Milo said, picking up a glass.

"An' she's not even the fuckin' worst," Jamie said. "Stephanie Fuckin' Fleming. Jesus."

"I know," Milo said, taking a sip. "I brought her a coffee and croissant last week, and she fondled my arse, and then pretended nothing had happened. Couldn't do a thing about it, I was holding a tray at the time."

"Fuck. Really?" Jamie said. "Let me know if she fuckin' does it again. I'll set fire to her fuckin' disgusting polyester blouse."

"Ah...please don't. But thanks for your support. I appreciate it." Milo said.

Jamie beamed at him, her enormous blue eyes sparkling, and he blushed. Oh God, he thought. She's beautiful. Jamie picked up a glass of champagne.

"Let me introduce you to my fiancee, Milo."

 

Juliet held Mal's hand as the nurse ran the gel-covered scanner over her tummy. All three of them had their eyes glued to the screen.

"Not long now," the nurse said, "the image should come up any minute..."

She stopped speaking as the images faded into view, faint and pale, but unmistakable. The nurse smiled.

"Well, Miss Tucker," she said, "looks like you'll be pretty busy for the next twenty years..."

"Twins," Mal breathed. "Fuck me...oh, sorry fer swearin' love."

"No need," the nurse said, squeezing her hand. Juliet bent down, took hold of her other hand, and kissed her.

"Darling," she whispered, "I'm so, so proud of you."

Mal squeezed both hands, and started weeping tears of pure joy.


	29. Chapter 29

Caz wandered over to one of the Prosecco and canape-laden tables, glaring at Jamie and Milo's retreating backs. Her prey had escaped, and she wasn't at all happy. She picked up a glass and downed it.

"Knocking them back a bit, aren't you?" murmured a voice to her left. She turned to see Steffi Pearson peering over the top of her glasses at her, nursing a glass of sparkling water. Caz sneered at her.

" Might 'ave known ya'd be a fuckin' teetotaler, as well as a fuckin' veggie. Fat-free, fun-free, fuck-free zone, you are."

"I'm just saying," Steffi sniffed, infuriatingly. 

"Fuck off. I've got my reasons. Wouldn't mind sinking my teeth into some quality meat right now. Christ! Won't anyone get me a fucking sausage roll?!" Caz snarled, her eyes igniting. Heads started turning in alarm.

"Christ! Keep it down, can't you?" Steffi muttered, looking from side to side.

"That'd be some feat, looking at your fucking outfit," Caz said, gazing with disdain at Steffi's unbleached cotton trouser suit.

"Witty as ever," Steffi said under her breath.

"What the fuck did you say?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Bit like you then. Enough of this priceless fucking banter. Did ya overhear anything we can use this evening?" Caz said, gazing at the chipped nail varnish on her right index finger.

Steffi reached into her hessian shoulder bag, drew out an A4 notepad and started flipping the pages and pages worth of handwritten charts and arrows.

"Well..." Steffi said, "I have a theory that Malina Tucker may be pregnant."

Caz's eyes widened.

"Fuck. What?! At her age? Her ovaries must be fucking dust by now!" she spluttered.

"As I said, it's only a theory," Steffi said, unruffled, "and, yes, it sounds unlikely, but hear me out on this one. Has she ever been known to miss anything like this? Ever? See, you can't answer that one, can you, because she never would! It's gotta be something major, because few things short of a nuclear strike would put her off. Now," Steff said, pointing at another chart, "is she in a relationship? No idea. But there are whispers that she's very fond of that young PA of hers. Both Ed and Philomena say that's the case."

"Right," Caz said, reaching for another glass. "Our very own Romeo and Juliet. Difference being, they're both cunts."

Steffi exhaled, patiently, then continued.

"Here's what we do. We get one of them to find out for sure, then get the Mail to run an expose, and some Katie Hopkins-type freelancer to run a piece about the iniquities of late motherhood. Might go down well in the shires and the more reactionary parts of Kent - "

Caz clapped her hard on the shoulder. Steffi winced.

"That. Is. Fucking. BRILLIANT!" she roared. "Carry on like this, and I may not sack ya."

She strode over to where Ed and Philly were arguing in a corner.

"Oi, horseface!" she shouted. "I've got a fucking job for ya!"

Philly froze in shock and dropped her glass. Steffi took off her glasses and pinched between her eyes: Caz always gave her such a headache.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For rubywallace25. A bit short, this chapter, but I hope you like it! More to come...

Jamie gazed at Olivia and Milo. She was on her third glass of Prosecco, and her huge, sky-blue eyes were shining. She gestured broadly around the room.

"Ye know what?" she said. "Fuck this lot. Fuck Bernice an' her worthless shite book." The others grinned at her. She drained her glass. "I've got a better idea."

She looked over at Caz and raised both her glass and a middle finger in a cheeky salute. Caz, very drunk and leaning heavily against the table, glared at her. Jamie wondered for a second why Steffi was standing with Caz when the two women openly loathed each other, then decided she didn't really care.

"Come wi' me," she said, grabbing their hands and heading for the exit. Bernice, alone at a table with a mountain of copies of her vanity-published book, brushed some vol-au-vent crumbs from her cheek and glowered after them.

"Well, that's just fucking rude, leaving that early," she muttered to no-one in particular.

 

"Where are we going?" Olivia pleaded, out of breath as Jamie raced ahead of them, shimmying in her gorgeous red dress up a seemingly endless stone staircase. I wish I'd worn flat shoes now, she thought, my bloody arches are aching, as her high heels clicked, up and up.

"Not far tae go," Jamie called out, "it's just the right time. Just like Doctor Who, let me show ye wonders!"

She turned in her headlong ascent and smiled at them, and Milo smiled back at her.

 

Finally, they reached the top of the staircase. Jamie plunged her hand into her dress and into her bra and drew out a security pass. She clicked it against a panel, grasped the door handle and wrenched it open.

"Told yer," she said triumphantly.

The others gasped. They were out in the freezing cold air in a magnificent rooftop garden, with the whole of London laid out beneath them, from the nearby streets to the Chilterns and the Downs either side. The sky looked as if it were on fire, crimson clouds flaming and curling into the distance, with the light fading from aquamarine to midnight blue behind them, the Thames a gleaming teal ribbon snaking into the distance. The streets beneath them were beginning to twinkle with fairy lights, the London Eye looking like a beautiful, bejewelled toy they could pick up and hold in the palm of their hand. 

Olivia squealed with delight.

"That's amazing! Thank you!" she cried, hugging Jamie. Jamie laughed, picked her up and twirled her around, Olivia's ever-wild hair swinging, then lowered her and planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Anythin' for mae future wife. Fuckin' anything, darlin'."

"Hmm," Olivia said, smiling blissfully at her, "I think it's you that's my future wife!"

"Anythin' ye say, wifey," Jamie said. 

She turned and looked at Milo.

"Ye've been a bit quiet, lad," she said. "But we've decided we like ye. A lot. Now, what would ye say tae spendin' the night wi' us?"


	31. Chapter 31

Breath misting in the freezing London air, Jamie hailed a taxi, and the three of them piled into the back, tipsy and happy.

"Christ, these seats are cold!" Olivia said, giggling and wincing on the leather.

"That's cos ye're skirt's so fuckin' short, love," Jamie murmured in her ear. "Ye know what they say. 'Red shoes, no knickers.'"

"Yeah, but you like the kilt! I'm wearing it for you - " Olivia said, her words cut short as Jamie kissed her. Then Jamie broke away and gazed at Milo.

"Ye look like a dog starin' at a steak, love," she said. "Tell ye what," she said to Olivia, "shall I kiss him too?"

"Go right ahead," Olivia said, grinning.

"Ta," said Jamie. 

She leaned in, grabbed Milo's tie and started kissing him, fiercely. And when she finished, Olivia kissed him too.

"Sorry to interrupt," the driver said sardonically, some ten minutes later, "but we've arrived at your destination."

"Great," Jamie said. She disengaged herself from the tangle of limbs and reached into her coat to retrieve her purse.

She kicked the taxi door shut behind them, and the three of them tripped up the concrete steps to Olivia's front door.

"Nice place," Milo said, glancing around at the crimson walls as Olivia set about lighting the candles.

"Aye," Jamie said, sitting on Olivia's brass bed, "nothing in here that's not decorative. An' that's gonna include ye, by the way. Would ye object to dressing up a bit?"

Milo grinned.

"Of course not! What did you have in mind for me?"

 

"Think that's all, now," Olivia said. She put down the make-up brush and gazed at her handiwork. Jamie squeezed her hand.

"Christ. He looks fuckin' incredible, love. I mean, not that ye didn't before, love," she said to Milo, "but what can I say? We've got feminine tastes."

Olivia had certainly gone to town on Milo. His long legs were wrapped up, like a present, in black silk stockings, connected by stockings to a black silk camisole top, his bulge obscured by tight black French knickers. Green, sparkling eye shadow and thick false eyelashes emphasised his startling big green eyes, his lips painted into an impressive crimson pout. A long black wig, complete with fringe, finished off the look. Jamie's eyes glittered as she looked at him.

"Ye look good enough ta eat, love," she said. "However. I'd like ye to eat out my fiancee 'til she screams, fer starters. Would ye like that?"

Dazed, Milo nodded.

 

Jamie held onto Olivia as she came, hard, for the third time, Milo's head buried between her legs, feeling her mewling cries inside her mouth. Olivia's long fingers filled her, pushing hard with each stroke of Milo's tongue, first three, then four, then finally five. Jamie shrieked, her whole body clenching in climax as the two of them collapsed together, sweaty and exhausted.

"No more!" Olivia groaned, sprawled back across the pillows. Gently, she pulled her fingers from Jamie's still-gushing pussy, then dazedly offered them to Milo, who took hold of her hand and sucked them eagerly.

"Thanks," Jamie murmured. She glanced sideways at Olivia and grinned, tiredly.

"An' what are we gonna do about him?"

The two of them rolled Milo onto his back, and exclaimed at the size of the bulge inside his French knickers. As one, they reached forwards and started stroking him, and seconds later he came with a gasp, soaking through the fabric, back arching. 

The three of them drifted off to sleep where they lay Hours later, Milo woke, lying in between Jamie and Olivia. Jamie's face looked so peaceful in the half-light, and he gulped: Olivia was cute, certainly, but to him, Jamie was...she was so beautiful...

He gulped, softly, then roused himself, gently, so not to disturb them, and reached for his clothes. They would have something in the bathroom for him to get rid of the make up. It was high time he was going home.

He couldn't resist giving Jamie's cheek a gentle kiss before he left.


	32. Chapter 32

"That tight enough fer ye?" Jamie said, grinning.

Olivia, chained hand and foot to the bars of her brass bed, grinned back up at her.

"It's perfect," she murmured. She gulped appreciatively as she felt Jamie's gaze roving across her, felt her nipples hardening against the frail, cool filigree silver chains of her almost-outfit. Jamie, wielding a large wand massager in one hand and a long, purple feather in the other, climbed onto the bed and straddled her.

"Gorgeous," she murmured. "My fuckin' gorgeous tethered filly."

She reached down and stroked Olivia's ever-wild dark curls.

"Good girl," she whispered, switching the massager onto a low hum, "be a good girl for me."

She stroked her lover all over, sometimes with the massager, sometimes the feather, loving the way the younger woman bucked upwards, desperate for more sensation.

"Christ, Jamie," Olivia moaned, some twenty minutes later, "just let me come..."

Jamie gazed down at her pink-flushed cheeks, her lips, wet and cherry-red with need. She couldn't possibly resist her when she was like this. But she wasn't going to give in that easily.

"Eager wee slut, arn't ye?" she whispered, enjoying the aroused gasp that resulted. "All in the fullness of time, sweetheart. But first there's somethin' ye have tae do fer me..."

She straddled Olivia's face and closed her eyes in bliss as her lover started to lick her, hard and fast.

"Ohh, that's great, love. I'll make ye scream later, that's fer fuckin' sure..."

Olivia could only moan against Jamie's dripping cunt by way of response.

 

"Are you all right, darling Mal?" Juliet murmured, in the glass-sided office. "I can take this meeting, if you'd rather be excused. I know what she's like."

Mal squeezed her hand.

"Nah, I can fuckin' handle her, thanks," she said. "Tell ye what, though. I could murder a Curly Wurly right now."

Another one? Juliet thought, but said nothing as she reached into her bag and retrieved another tough, twisty toffee and chocolate bar. Mal grabbed it from her hand, tore open the wrapper and started devouring it voraciously.

"Mmmhhh. Fantastic. Ye got any butterscotch Angel Delight on you?"

"Not presently. But I could pick some up from Tesco on the way back - "

Juliet broke off, her eyes turning anxious as Stephanie barged in and slammed the door behind her.

"Well!" Stephanie said, with a grin that didn't reach her eyes, "is something amusing the pair of you? Hmmm? Anything you'd like to share with me?"

"It's a private conversation, Stephanie," Juliet said firmly. Mal just stared at Stephanie.

"Oh! It's all right! You can tell me. Just between us girls," Stephanie growled, her grin turning poisonous.

"What the fuck is this about, Stephanie?" Mal snarled. Juliet noted with alarm that Mal's death glare was slowly spreading across her face, like a dark dawn.

"Steph!" Stephanie snapped. "And, did you read the headlines this morning, by any chance?"

Mal rolled her eyes.

"Why the fuck would I do that? I'm Director of Communications for Her Majesty's Government. So it's mae fuckin' job!"

Steph reached into her bag and produced a copy of that morning's Mail, bearing a large picture of Mal and Sam on the front page, and waved it in Mal's face.

"Because, what I didn't realise until this morning is that you're carrying on with your fucking PA, darling! Who, in case you hadn't noticed, must be at least 20 years younger than you! How the fuck do you think it makes us look! Having someone in your responsible position who is, in point of fact, a sad, desperate, menopausal harpy chasing after much younger men! Darling, where's your sodding dignity? Eh?! What are you doing, shagging a little piece of trash like that?!"

There was a horrible silence, broken only by Juliet's gulp of dismay at Mal's expression.

"Don't ye...don't ye dare talk about Sammy like that..." Mal gasped.

"Well, yes, I will! Have you taken leave of your senses, woman? And what the bloody hell is the plainest of all Plain Janes doing here? Didn't I tell you to fuck off, darling, about a million times?!" Stephanie snapped at Juliet.

Mal stood up, her eyes wild.

"Ya fuckin' BITCH!" she screamed at Stephanie. "I'm nae listenin' tae any more of this! C'mon, Juliet. WE'RE LEAVIN'!"

She grabbed hold of a nearby table and overturned it for emphasis, drenching Stephanie with the contents of the water jugs for good measure, before storming out.

"You should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself!" Juliet hissed at Stephanie. "Talking to, well, anybody like that! Particularly to a woman in her condition! Oh, Mal! Please, wait!" she called out, running after Mal.

"What! What! WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" Stephanie screeched. But they had already gone.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Jamie's birthday. Pure fluff, and a kitten. (Because it's my birthday too, and why not?) Plus, a cheeky present from Mal.

Olivia turned the key in the lock of Jamie's front door, taking care not to knock the side of the large, square wickerwork basket she was carrying. Jamie, emerging from her bathroom into the hallway, with her hair still wet and clad only in a large black towel, beamed and trotted towards her.

"Happy birthday," Olivia cooed, bending to kiss her. Jamie flung her arms around Olivia's neck and kissed her back. They broke away, eventually, smiling and breathless.

"Did the deliveries get here OK?" said Olivia.

"Aye. Gorgeous, pet. All that champagne and all those truffles. Fuckin' great," Jamie said, kissing her neck. "There's just the one bag I didn't open. Thought the poor guy carryin' it it was gonna expire, it was so fuckin' heavy."

"Hmm...well, let's get the champagne open, then!" Olivia said, grinning. Jamie's eyes narrowed as she grinned back.

"Up tae somethin', aren't ye? Cheeky fuckin' minx," she said.

She pouted, twirled on a heel, and left the room. Olivia sat down on the comfortable sofa, and gently placed the basket in the middle. Moments later, Jamie re-emerged, carrying two crystal glasses and an open bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.

"Sit down," Olivia said, indicating the basket, "I've got something in here for you."

Jamie eyed the basket. It looked like a large picnic hamper, but it had large gaps in the sides, rather like breathing holes. And something seemed to be stirring inside...

She opened the top, peered inside, and a beautiful pair of green eyes gazed back into hers. She reached inside, and gently picked up a fluffy tabby kitten. It mewed at her, and a delighted smile quivered the corners of her mouth.

"Well, you said you always wanted one," Olivia said. Though, of course, she adored kittens too.

"Oh...oh, Christ. Thank ye, darlin'," Jamie said, clutching the kitten close to her. She looked deeply in love already, and, if its delighted purring was anything to go by, so was the kitten. Jamie sighed, and leaned her head against Olivia's shoulder.

"So, that's what the other supplies were," Jamie said, "Cat food, cat litter..."

"...Cat toys, cat post, cat bed, you name it," Olivia said. "She'll love the toy mouse on a string. Hang on, I'll go and unpack it."

They spent a good half hour playing with the kitten, making the mouse toy jerk to and fro as it chased it in wild abandon, until eventually it tired, curled up into a ball on the sofa and fell asleep.

"Got a name for her yet?" Olivia murmured, her fingers twining in Jamie's soft curls.

Jamie thought for a second.

"Wildcat. As in, wildcat strikes. Plus, she looks like a Scottish wildcat."

"Hmm," Olivia said, leaning in to kiss her. "Something she's got in common with you."

"Perfect name."

"You're perfect..."

They kissed, and kissed, pulling off each others' clothes until they were naked and sprawled across Jamie's impressive collection of sheepskin rugs, kissing each other all over.

"I don't want this ever to end," Olivia whispered, slender legs wrapped around Jamie's hips.

"It won't," Jamie whispered back, and Olivia gasped as she thrust forward.

 

Later, wrapped up together in a fleecy throw, they helped each other to more champagne, holding hands, watching the kitten sleep, watching the candles casting mellow, dappled shadows across the room.

"Oh, an' I got this," Jamie said, reaching towards a box on the floor. "Don't know who it's from."

She tried opening the pink ribbon, but her nails were too short, and she ended up impatiently tearing it off. She opened the top of the box, and a silver helium balloon floated out. As it rose, they read its message, emblazoned on the side in purple glitter:

"To Jamie.

Happy 38th Birthday.

You kinky cunt.

Love, Mal."

Jamie snorted.

"Oh, nice one! That's her idea of a fuckin' joke!"

Out of nowhere, the kitten streaked towards the balloon like a furry missile, bringing it down and puncturing it with her claws with a soft hiss of air. They laughed, and Jamie gathered Wildcat into her arms.

"Good girl," she cooed, stroking her under her chin until she was purring like a turbine drill, "I think we're gonna be great fuckin' mates."


	34. Chapter 34

Mal, lying back on the sofa with her bare feet propped up against the armrest, sighed heavily. She craned her head, trying to see into the kitchen.

"Sam! SAMMY!" she called out.

"Yes, my sweet?" Sam called back.

"I'm sae fuckin' BORED!"

"You heard what the doctor said. Rest up. Let someone else take care of you, for a change."

Mal's nostrils flared at the scent of something sweet and biscuity.

"Somethin' smells good," she said.

"Hang on..."

Mal heard the sounds of clanging, the oven door slamming shut, and eventually Sam emerged, smiling proudly, wearing nothing but a striped apron over his boxer shorts, and carefully carrying a plate loaded with gingerbread figures on a tray.

"Ginger. Great for morning sickness. Careful, they're a bit hot," he said, lowering the tray down onto a nearby coffee table. He detached one of the figures and handed it to her. She held it between her scarlet fingernails and squinted at it.

"I used the gingerbread man and woman cutters," he said. "Looks like that one's gone a bit overboard with the hair."

Mal studied the cloud-like waves and furrows around the figure's head.

"Looks like that fuckin' tart Olivia. The baked gingerbread woman."

She bit into the still-warm, soft and yielding biscuit, closing her eyes in pleasure as the warm spice spread over her tongue, sending all her senses tingling.

"Mmm, that's good," she sighed. "Fuckin' tasty."

"Not as tasty as you," Sam murmured, bending to kiss her. Mal grinned wickedly.

"Is that so? Would you fancy eating me, then?" she said, spreading her legs. Sam grinned back at her.

"It would be my pleasure."

 

Meanwhile, in the morning briefing, Bernice glanced sideways at a sullen-looking Nikki Hanway, and raised her hand as if she were in class.

"Jamie?"

"Aye?" Jamie said, turning from the clipboard, black marker pen in hand.

"Where's Mal this morning?"

"Fuckin' indisposed, OK? None of yer business why. Anyway, as I was fuckin' sayin' - "

"Why is there a kitten on your shoulder?"

Jamie turned again and fired a deadly glare at her. Bernice flinched.

"I'll have ye know," she snarled, "that this is Wildcat. I've trained her tae go fer the eyes of anyone who fuckin' annoys me, alright? The eyes!"

Bernice sank back in her chair. Wildcat mewed, and batted one of Jamie's loose curls with a forepaw. Jamie grinned, and once again pushed a button on the device she held in her left hand, and Olivia, sat at the back, gasped and tossed back her head, inadvertently slapping Glenda's face with her hair.

"You alright?" Glenda murmured, gingerly disentangling strands of wavy hair from her mouth and chin.

"Yeah..." Olivia murmured, "Just a bit of cramp, that's all."

"Didn't look like any cramp I've ever seen - "

"Oi, you! Shut it, Dolores Umbridge!" Jamie barked at Glenda.

"Well, that was fucking uncalled for," Glenda muttered.

Jamie pressed the device again, and Olivia whimpered.

"Can anyone hear something buzzing?" Nikki asked.

"Oh God," Nick Murray said, glancing around. "There isn't a fucking wasp in here, is there?"

"Feel free tae open a window, it'll fly out," Jamie said, her keen eyes fixed on Olivia's unfocused, blissful gaze, "it's gettin' a bit fuckin' hot in here."

 

The meeting was over, and the participants filed out. Jamie waited before they'd gone before closing the door behind them, placing Wildcat in her basket on the floor and walking over to Olivia. She took hold of a handful of hair, bent down and kissed her. Olivia, flushed and dazed, kissed her back, desperately.

"This is fun," she murmured, "Keeping ye on brink of coming. Be a good girl, I'll let ye come, in, ooh, couple of hours? An' ye can wear the collar next time, would ye like that?"

Olivia nodded, overcome, as Jamie kissed her, and she moaned again as Jamie flicked the switch.

 

Mal turned her head and moaned into the cushions as she came hard, thighs wrapped around Sam's head, and slumped back against the sofa.

"Christ. Thanks, love," she murmured.

Sam kissed a line up Mal's thigh, and walked over to where she lay.

"Did you enjoy that?" he whispered.

But Mal, lying back against the sofa with her head on the cushions, had already drifted into a blissful sleep. Sam exhaled and sat down on the floor, holding her hand, watching her peaceful face as she slept.


	35. Chapter 35

It was Saturday evening. Jamie and Olivia were lounging on Olivia's bed, a laptop open in front of them. Olivia squinted down over the top of her glasses at the screen.

"What about that one? That's pretty smart."

Jamie snorted.

"Ye kiddin'? I'm not wearing a fuckin' tuxedo, OK?! It's mae big day an' I want a stunnin' dress!"

"OK," Olivia said. She scrolled forwards, and grinned at the next image. "Maybe you'd prefer this one, then..."

Jamie howled with laughter at the puffy-sleeved ivory satin monstrosity that filled the screen.

"Jesus, wha'? That's fuckin' hideous! My eyes!"

"Looks like the sort of revolting meringue Philomena would wear, just 'cause it's an '80s style..."

"Aye. D'ye think she'll marry Ed?" Jamie said.

"Um, what? Why do you say that?"

"Just wonderin'. They're both fuckin' arseholes, they belong together," Jamie said, stretching back on the bed. Olivia wrapped her arms around her, nestling her face against her lover's full breasts.

"Can't say I care, really."

She pulled Jamie in for a kiss. Wildcat chose that moment to pounce onto the bed and seize Olivia's long curls in her teeth. Olivia yelped.

"Oww! You little shit!"

Jamie laughed.

"Well, what did ye expect? This is a fuckin' cat-owned house, now."

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Wildcat. I love you really."

Wildcat mewed, and Olivia's face softened; she really did love their kitten. Jamie kissed her neck.

"Maybe we should get her a wee pal tae play with?"

"Maybe," Olivia said, embracing her back, "let's play with each other, first..."

 

Juliet slipped quietly into the lounge bar of the Six Bells pub. She'd just been working in the office, trying to get her report finished so she'd have the satisfaction of showing it to the others on Monday. She'd finished one step ahead of them, and thought she'd celebrate with a refreshing glass of wine. Just the one, though, she thought. Got to keep on call in case Mal needs me.

She made her way to the bar and ordered her drink. Whilst waiting, she turned her head and, much to her surprise, saw Milo sitting alone in a booth, head lowered and nursing a glass of red wine. She took her wine and hurried over to him.

Philly, sitting nearby, folded her long arms crossly and glared at Steffi.

"It's not fair!" she snapped. "Why the hell have you dragged me in here on my day off? I was hoping to cook a meal for Ed tonight!"

Steffi rubbed her temples tiredly.

"For Christ's sake, Philly, try thinking about something other than your doomed love life and Klingons, just for once! This is intelligence-gathering, OK?"

"Yeah, but when I took this job I wasn't signing up for sneaking around and spying on people - "

"Right," Steffi hissed, her affable veneer cracking, "Fine. You don't have the killer instinct you need for this job? Want me to speak to Caz Richards, do you? Want to spend the rest of your miserable career working on the tills at Wilko's?"

Philly gulped.

"OK, I'll do it."

"Right. Good. Shh now, they're talking. Listen."

 

Juliet gazed sympathetically into Milo's tear-washed green eyes.

"It's OK. Go on."

"I've - I've never felt like this before," Milo sniffled, as Juliet reached into her bag and handed him a large, clean monogrammed handkerchief. "I...I'm in love with Jamie McDonald. I just had to tell someone."

"Oh. I see. And she's - "

"Engaged. Trust me to fall for someone who isn't available."

"Ahhh," Juliet said, wistfully. "Love. The best thing in life, and the worst. And I should know..."

 

"OK," Philly whispered. "Juliet's PA's in love with Jamie."

Steffi waved her hand dismissively.

"Not a story. Keep listening."

 

"So, your partner ran off with a Page 3 girl?" Milo said, eyes widening. "I never knew."

Juliet smiled.

"Way before your time, my dear. The press took me apart...anyway. I really thought that would be that. Until Mal came along. The woman I love, and, much to my amazement, the woman I am now with. You see, my dear friend, life is really such a fascinating and twisted journey. But, I see your glass is empty. May I fill it for you?"

Philly turned to Steffi, eyes wide.

"Well, now. That's interesting."

"She's getting them more wine," Steffi said, eyes scanning the pub. "Stay right where you are."

Half an hour later, Steffi finished drawing an elaborate chart in her note book and slammed it shut.

"Thought so," she said. "Mal's pregnant, and in a polyamorous relationship. We've got all the information we need. Come on."

"Can't we stay and have a drink first?"

"No, Philly, we can't."

They left the pub and hurried through the rain towards a taxi rank, leaving an oblivious Juliet and Milo chatting happily away as if they'd known each other for years.

 

Jamie and Olivia were engaged in a passionate kiss when Olivia's mobile rang.

"Hang on..." Olivia said, reaching towards the bedside table to retrieve it. Jamie clung to her waist.

"Don't leave me, darlin' girl..."

"Leave you? Never," Olivia said, smiling as she answered the phone.

"Dad!" she said. "Didn't expect to hear from you...oh, Mum's told you...Yeah! It's great news, I'm getting married...yes, to a woman, to Jamie, the love of my life, oh Dad, I can't wait for you to meet her...look, I know things haven't been easy between us recently but you're invited to the wedding..."

Olivia listened in silence for a while, Jamie's eyes never leaving her face. All of a sudden Olivia's mouth fell open, and her lower lip started trembling.

"What - what do you mean, you're not coming?!"


	36. Chapter 36

Olivia listened in silence for a long time, blinking rapidly.

"Well, Dad," she said at last. "I'm...I'm really sorry that's how you feel. But, but...no, listen...I'm getting married to the person, to, to, the woman I love, and that's it. I'm not changing my mind. Not for you, not for anyone. I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened.

"He hung up," she breathed out.

She placed her mobile back on the bedside table, and sat back on the bed, drawing her knees up and hugging them. She lowered her head, her huge mane of hair obscuring her face.

"He's not coming to the wedding!" she wailed, her back heaving.

"Oh, love," Jamie murmured, "c'mere."

She gradually unravelled Olivia's long, unresisting arms, then wrapped them loosely around her and hugged her tightly.

"Why not?" she whispered. "Why wouldn't he want tae see his darlin' baby girl get married, eh?"

"Because..." Olivia spluttered out, through hiccuping sobs, "he - he - thinks - two women - in love's - wrong - "

"Fuck - why? Is he really hard-line religious or somethin'? Tell me, love," Jamie said, rocking her.

"Nah, he's, he's, not religious at all. Just thinks, it's, it's against the natural order. Whatever the, the living actual fuck that might be."

"Awww. Hanky?"

"...please."

Jamie passed Olivia a tissue. Olivia wiped her streaming eyes, then leaned back into Jamie's embrace. Jamie stroked her hair.

"There, now. Tell me, darlin'. Did he know ye're bi?"

Olivia sighed.

"I blurted it out to him once, during a row we were having about gay rights. He, he told me never to mention it again or I wouldn't be welcome in his house anymore." She sniffled. "He and Mum had separated by then."

"Fuckin' hell. Did yer Mum talk to him?"

"She - she tried to. And, and she's OK, she doesn't care what I am, she always just wanted me to be happy. Y'know, the way... parents...are...supposed to..." Olivia said, staring straight ahead, a single tear streaming down her right cheek. Jamie rubbed her back.

"Oh, love. I can tell ye're angry about it. I don't blame yer one bit. An' I'll tell ye somethin'. Mam can't wait tae meet ye. She'd have come down earlier tae meet both of us, but she's so fuckin' busy with her Church meetings."

"Yeah," Olivia said, mopping her eyes again and trying to smile, "she sounds amazing."

"Oh, she fuckin' is. She's a fuckin' rock, particularly since poor Da died. Mind ye," Jamie said, grinning, "she's a fuckin' mad, scary bitch fer all that."

Olivia smirked.

"I don't doubt it," she said, then yelped with laughter as Jamie poked under her arms.

"Insult Mam, would ye? I'll tickle ye fer that..."

"Don't you dare!" Olivia yelled, "don't you dare...!"

 

Meanwhile, in a flat elsewhere in London, Glenda sighed, splashed a hand contentedly in the lavender-scented water and leaned back against the high enamel back of her bath.

"Christ," she said, "this is the most fun I've had in - well, I can't even remember when."

"Told you," said Robin, relaxing back into Glenda's arms. "Drinking champagne in the bath? It's the best treat ever."

"Hmm," said Glenda, smoothing Robin's hair back with a long hand, "couldn't agree more. Dunno why I didn't do it before. Maybe I thought it was too decadent?"

"What's wrong with being decadent?" Robin said, twisting his head around and grinning at her.

"Goodness me, you're full of surprises, Mr Murdoch," Glenda said. "I like it, though. I...I never thought I'd have this in my life. Ever."

"The pleasure's all mine. I just hope it was worth the wait."

"Oh, it was. It really was."

"And, talking of surprises, I think I've lost the soap in the bathwater, again. Would you care to help me find it, Miss Cullen...?"

 

"Right," shouted Steffi, sweeping into the Opposition's offices, Philly trotting behind her, "let's get on the phones! Let's do this!"

Peta Mannion, standing beside the coffee machine, turned to face her, her world-weary eyes registering new depths of despair.

"Oh," she said. "It's you. Great. What's your big idea, now? A revamp of 'Wake Up To Yoga' starring the cast of Big Brother?"

"Nice try, Peta," Steffi snapped. "As per usual, you're completely out of the loop. No. We've got some genuine stuff here and we're gonna use it!"

"Oh, yes? Such as? Impress me, why don't you."

"OK. Get this. We've been information-gathering, Peta, while you've no doubt been sipping a glass of port! What about, Malina Tucker, pregnant by her much-younger PA, and, moreover, in an open relationship with said PA, and, for some unfathomable reason, Lady Juliet Nicholson as well, all at the age of fucking 50! We've got to leak this to the press. This is a fucking gift, Peta! Don't you agree?!" Steffi yelled.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Philly gulped and nodded. Peta's eyes narrowed.

"Do you," Peta said, "want to know what I think?"

"If it's not too much trouble, then yeah!" Steffi said.

"Well, I don't agree!" Peta roared. Philly flinched. "Since you've asked for my opinion, then no! I don't agree with this, on any fucking level you care to name!"


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peta and Steffi have a fight, Jamie and Olivia get creative with chocolate, and there's a surprise visitor.
> 
> Happy Easter/Passover/choccy egg day everyone!

Steffi looked furious. Her nostrils flared, which only increased her resemblance to Tenniel's White Rabbit in the early stages of a massive, panicky tantrum.

"What do you mean, you don't agree?!" she yelled at Peta.

"Because this has got sod-all to do with politics, that's why!" Peta shouted back. "So what?! If Malina Tucker's happy with being pregnant at 50 and by the sounds of it extremely well-fucked as well, then GOOD FOR HER! It's nice to know that someone in this miserable fucking dung-heap of a world's actually happy. Christ, I wish I was," Peta said, her voice trailing off.

"I'm - I'm speechless," Steffi said. "You're really going to let your rancid self-pity get in the way of a massive win for our party?"

"When did basic fucking human decency get transformed into self-pity, Steffi? Did I miss one of your fucking incomprehensible memos on the subject?"

"Um, actually there was one a couple of weeks ago," Philly said nervously. "'Depersonalising and Deconstructing the Personal Matrix in Politics.' I flagged it up for you - "

"And you can shut up," Peta snapped. Philly looked crushed. Steffi started pacing in a highly agitated fashion.

"After the way the press treated you after your affair! All those articles entitled 'Slapper Mannion'! Mr Mannion never going to slip you his sausage ever again..."

"That's true enough," Peta muttered. "He hasn't."

Steffi stopped pacing and glared at Peta. Her eyes narrowed behind her specs.

"What's that around your neck?"

"Pearls, Steffi. It's a pearl necklace. I like pearls. They're classy and restrained, and I know what you're going to say, and no, I'm not going to take them off."

Steffi took a hissing intake of breath.

"We've already discussed this. No pearls. And no fucking brooches, either. If you must wear a necklace, make it a simple gold strand, OK? And lay off the court shoes, A-line skirts and boxy jackets, while you're at it."

"What are you, my mother?" Peta snorted. "Don't start telling me what I can and can't wear - what, what are you doing?" she said as Steffi advanced towards her. Steffi grabbed the necklace. "Get off me, you fucking maniac!" Peta shouted.

Philly closed her eyes, wanting the ground to open up and swallow her as her boss and her party's chief spin doctor grappled with each other. Then the door crashed open, and the noise stopped. She saw the two of them staring in horror at Caz Richards, who was grinning diabolically at all three of them.

"Oh, great. My cup's really overflowing, now," Peta muttered, very quietly.

"Didn't realise you were into pearl-necklacing, ya old perv," Caz said to Peta. "And you!" she shouted at Steffi, who jumped, "Where's our fucking scoop, then? And why is she still in that fucking hideous '80s get-up? You were supposed to be fucking restyling her!"

"I'm trying to, Caz," Steffi said, gulping with fear, "I'm really trying."

"That's true," Peta muttered.

"Well, get a fucking move on, else you've 'ave to buy yer mung beans and tofu on the rations of fucking Income Support," Caz barked, as she turned on her heel and stalked out.

Steffi stared after her, then grabbed Peta's necklace and pulled at it, sending pearls cascading and bouncing across the carpet, before storming out and slamming the door.

"Oh, fan-fucking-tastic!" Peta shouted after her.

"Are you OK?" Philly gasped, hurrying over. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Only my pride," Peta said. "Pick up those pearls, would you? I'll get them restrung and wear that bloody necklace every sodding day, just to annoy her..."

 

Two days later

It was early afternoon on Easter Sunday and a brilliant beam of sunlight shone through the gap in Jamie's silver and blue bedroom curtains, dappling the shadows on the bed. Jamie and Olivia were sprawled across the plastic-covered duvet, kissing.

"Thought it would be more fun, eating our Easter eggs this way," Jamie whispered. "Ready?"

Olivia, lying on her back, nodded up at her. Jamie reached for the bedside table and picked up a jug before pouring warm, melted chocolate over Olivia's pert breasts. Olivia sighed as Jamie set about licking and suckling her pebbled nipples.

"Mmm," she murmured as Jamie performed wonders with her tongue. "Talk about Death by Chocolate. What a way to go..."

She arched up towards Jamie's writhing tongue, until finally Jamie had licked her clean. Jamie straddled her and grinned.

"You've got chocolate round your mouth," Olivia pointed out.

"So have ye. Ye've got chocolate every fuckin' where, ye messy slut."

"Spoken by one who knows. Hang on..."

Olivia reached towards the bed and Jamie almost whimpered with delight as Olivia poured the chocolate over her full tits, then set to work with her mouth.

"Christ, love. We should do a fuckin' X-rated cookery show, the two of us."

Olivia, eyes closed, mumbled something into Jamie's breasts.

"What's - ah, fuckin' ace! - what's that, love?"

"Said, we'd put Nigella to shame," Olivia said. Jamie grinned like a wolf.

"Certainly would," she said, tipping Olivia onto her back and straddling her once more, positioning herself as Olivia spread her legs, both of them moaning aloud as their hot, soaking flesh made contact.

"Been a while since we've done this," Jamie whispered. "I've missed it."

"Me too..." Olivia whispered back, and cried out as Jamie started grinding slowly against her.

 

"Ah, Chreest!" Jamie screamed as she came explosively, stars dancing in her head. She collapsed against a spent and exhausted Olivia, the two of them sweating and panting hard. They cradled each other as they recovered, their breath slowing back to normal. Jamie raised her head and smiled.

"How do I look, love?" 

"Absolutely covered in chocolate. It's in your hair. In your eyebrows. And oh look, it's even in your eyelashes," Olivia said, kissing her cheek. "What about me?"

"Like ye've been dipped in it, like a gorgeous shortbread fuckin' biscuit," Jamie said, stroking Olivia's dripping hair. 

Just then, the doorbell rang, and a raucous Scottish voice shouted through the letterbox:

"Jamie, darlin'! It's me! Arn't ye goin' tae let me in? Get up off yer lazy arse and open the door, love!"

Jamie cringed.

"Oh Christ!" she moaned. "Not now! She really knows how tae pick her times - "

"Who is it?"

"It's Mam!"


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie's Mam. Plus, poor Terry tries to be helpful.

"Jaysus!" Jamie muttered as her mobile phone sounded, "I'll have tae go down, she'll kick the fuckin' door in otherwise. Shite! Pass the wet wipes, darlin'," she said to Olivia.

Olivia passed the packet to her. Jamie ripped it open and frantically wiped her face.

"Reet. How do I look?"

Olivia, short-sighted without her glasses, squinted at her.

"Uh, not much better, I'm afraid."

Jamie clambered, naked, off the bed and threw open the doors of the cupboard, rummaging around until she found a dark, crumpled wrap dress. She hurriedly put it on, tying the ends together.

"Jamie, love!" her mother hollered from outside. "Are ye OK?"

Jamie kissed Olivia's cheek, then bolted out of the bedroom door.

"Comin', Mam!"

She galloped down the stairs on her bare feet and wrenched the front door open. Her mother, a tiny woman with greying black curls and Jamie's eyes, stood in the doorway. She smiled, broadly.

"Darlin', it's good tae see ye." She did an impressive double-take. "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, WHAT THE FUCK D'YE LOOK LIKE?!" she shrieked.

Jamie smiled sheepishly as her mother leaned against the wall, hooting with laughter.

"I...was tryin' tae make chocolate brownies. Had a bit of an accident with the blender."

Her mother reached into her coat pocket, wiping her tears of mirth away with a handkerchief.

"I can believe it. Always were a hopeless fuckin' cook, bless ye. I hope the poor girl ye're marryin' knows what she's lettin' herself in for."

"Yeah," Jamie said, her cheeks burning. "Come on in, Mam, I'll make ye a brew."

 

Meanwhile, Terry Coverley was strolling down the corridors at DoSAC. He'd taken advantage of the Easter lull to come into the office and complete a press release. It wasn't the only reason he was there: much to his amazement, the beautiful and stylish Peta Mannion MP had invited him to the Six Bells pub that evening for what she described as a "debrief". His work duly completed, he was clutching a bag containing a large box of chocolates. She probably liked chocolates, he reckoned. He hadn't taken a note of the brand, but they were very expensive and they looked pretty in their see-through box. I just hope they're not salted caramels, he mused. Whose insane idea was it to put tons of salt into chocolate, anyway...

Passing Mal's office, he heard a loud series of moans, and his back started prickling. Mal really hadn't been herself recently. There were murmurings about her state of health in the department. She'd been even more volatile than usual, lobbing files at ministers and reducing strong men to tears. God, he thought, is she ill? He grabbed hold of the doorknob and rushed into her office.

 

"You OK, Mam?" Jamie asked. 

Her mother, who had been watching the spectacle of Wildcat swinging energetically by her claws on the living room curtains, turned with a start.

"Hypnotic wee thing, isn't she?" she said. She gazed into her teacup and frowned.

"Is there whiskey in this tea?"

"No."

"Well, put some in fer me, would ye?"

Jamie nodded, stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Did ye hear," Jamie's mum hollered, "our Donald's gettin' married, too?"

"Oh, aye? My little baby brother? That's fuckin' great news," Jamie shouted back, reaching into the cupboard.

"Yeah, to a welder called Hamish," her mum yelled cheerily, "not sure it'll last though, they've only been together two months..."

 

"Mal, are you all right?" Terry shouted. He saw her reclining in her massive chair at her desk.

"Fuck's sake, Terry," Mal said hoarsely, "don't ye ever knock?"

"I - I heard you crying out. I thought you were hurt..."

Terry's eyes widened as Juliet emerged from beneath the desk, licking her lips.

"Ah, hello Terry," Juliet said, perfectly composed. "I just dropped my pen. My very expensive Mount Blanc pen. I've found it now."

"But...but you're not holding...a pen..." Terry said, his voice tailing off as Mal's eyes blazed at him.

"What 's that in yer bag?" Mal snapped.

"Chocolates."

"Well bring them over here, fer fuck's sake."

Terry edged towards her desk. Mal grabbed the bag off him and ripped open the box.

"Good tae share," Mal said, grabbing handfuls of chocolates and wolfing them down. "Starvin'. Hope ye don't mind. Juliet, have some of Terry's fuckin' All Gold."

Terry looked on unhappily as his colleagues ate every single last one of the chocolates. Oh well, he thought. It'll have to be just a drink with Peta Mannion now.

 

Just as Jamie walked back into the living room, Olivia walked in through the other door, freshly showered, wearing a pale blue velvet skater dress, her hair hanging all the way down her back. Jamie beamed as her mother rose to her feet.

"Ye must be Livvy!" she exclaimed. "Oh darlin'. Ye're so beautiful. Like a princess."

She walked over and clasped Olivia's slender waist in a bear-hug.

"My name's Moira, sweetheart. Welcome to our fuckin' insane family!"

Olivia blushed, and smiled.


	39. Chapter 39

Jamie stroked Olivia's wild, dark curls and smiled down at her.

"Just a routine examination, Miss Reeder," she purred, and Olivia, dressed only in black fishnet stockings and suspenders, swallowed hard as Jamie undid a couple more of the buttons on her white nurse's uniform, revealing even more of her lush cleavage. 

"Now," Jamie murmured, "I want ye tae put yer feet up in these wee stirrups. Can ye do that fer me?"

Olivia bit her lip and nodded. Jamie gently lifted her feet, one by one, placing them in the looped black velvet hanging from the bars at the end of the bed.

"There's a good girl. Now, let's have a look at ye."

Jamie clambered onto the bed and in between Olivia's wide-spread legs. Olivia's face flushed as Jamie gazed down at her, her big blue eyes sparkling.

"Mmm. This end of ye's seen a lot of action, hasn't it? Oh, look. Ye're all wet, bless ye. Delicious girl."

Jamie took hold of the box and withdrew a latex glove, sliding it onto her right hand and letting go with a satisfying thwack. She picked up the tube and make a show of coating her gloved hand in lube. She grinned down at Olivia's flushed face.

"So, bearing that in mind, Miss Reeder, let's see how much ye can take..."

 

Morning. Glenda's eyes flicked open. She was in Robin's bed. She peered at the alarm clock on the bedside table: 5:40am. She turned over and sighed; she knew she wouldn't be sleeping again anytime soon.

Robin was sleeping beside her, on his front, face buried in the pillows. Glenda instinctively smiled back at him, and patted his shoulder. He mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep. Glenda edged out of bed, feeling her way to the door, grabbing hold of Robin's dressing gown and tying it around herself. She stepped into the sitting room, turning on the light, sat down on the sofa and started rifling through her bag, drawing out her bookmarked copy of 'Wolf Hall'. She settled down and tried to read, but she'd left her glasses on the bedside table and the words blurred and jumped in front of her. 

"Sod this," she muttered, placing it back in her bag and picking up a TV listings magazine. She scanned the schedules, but there was nothing on except for property porn shows and miserable Scandi-murder dramas. And she'd missed the rerun of 'M*A*S*H' again, damn it.

Her tummy rumbled. Robin, bless him, hardly ever had any food in the house. She stood and walked to the tiny kitchen. Toast, she thought. He's got to have bread, and something spreadable.

She opened the breadbin, and saw half a loaf of Hovis and something metallic. A ring. She picked it up, her heart pounding. A gold ring, inlaid with emeralds.

Oh Christ, she thought. I can't believe it. He's seeing someone else.

 

Olivia arched back on the bed, clutching onto the bars, as Jamie pressed her fingers further in, a fraction of an inch at a time.

"More..." she moaned, rocking back and forth against Jamie's invading hand. Jamie bent forward, capturing and rolling one peaked, rosy nipple between her lips, then the other.

"Such a good girl," Jamie whispered. "Think ye can take all five, eh?"

Olivia whimpered and nodded. Jamie tucked her thumb against her palm, smiling into Olivia's pleading eyes.

"Relax. Relax, darlin'."

She let Olivia set the pace, pushing forward only when Olivia bore down, gazing down in wonder as her hand began to disappear like a magic trick between those spread, rosy lips.

"Deep..." Olivia breathed out. She was panting, hard, a sheen of moisture misting across her skin. "Don't...don't stop..."

Jamie pressed her hand further in, gasping as Olivia's cunt clamped against her wrist. She bent forward, kissing her passionately.

"Ye've done it," she whispered. "Oh, ye brave girl. Tell me how it feels."

Oliva gasped, her cunt fluttering around Jamie's hand.

"Good...really...uh...good...I'm...I'm coming...!"

Jamie delivered a tender kiss to her abdomen, then angled her fingers upwards, causing Olivia to arch off the bed.

"Oh! Ohhh! Oh fuck! NURSE! JAMIE...!"

"That's it," Jamie cooed. "Scream if ye like. I've got ye."

She bent down and licked Olivia's clit. Olivia screamed like a banshee, and jets of fluid hit Jamie in the face. Jamie murmured appreciatively, and licked her lips.

Olivia collapsed, groaning, her whole body shaking with aftershocks. Jamie carefully slid her hand out from her lover's body, then gathered her into her arms, burying her face in her wild hair.

"How was that, darlin'? Was I a good fuckin' nurse?"

"You were fucking incredible," Olivia mumbled, between gasps. Jamie chuckled, and held her tighter.

"Nearly got one in the fuckin' eye, there. That'd be a first fer me." She flexed the fingers of her cramped right hand and gazed at it.

"I'll be thinkin' of this when I'm shakin' the Prime Minister's hand next week, or some such boring shite," she mused. "I love ye, sweetie."

"I love you too," Olivia said, her eyes fluttering shut.

 

Robin, wearing just his blue striped pyjama bottoms, walked blearily into the kitchen.

"Who is she, then?" Glenda said, her voice quavering. Robin looked puzzled, then saw the ring Glenda was holding.

"Oh damn, you found it," he said. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought, if I left it in there, I wouldn't lose it."

"What...what do you mean?" Glenda said. 

Robin smiled, and held his hand out. Glenda dropped the ring into his hand. Then, to her astonishment, Robin got down on one knee.

"Glenda - darling - would you do me the honour of being my wife?"


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The current broiling temperatures in London are making me feel all nostalgic. This is an affectionate tribute to the wonderful summers of 1976 and 1983, in which Jamie and Olivia are loved-up and not doing very much (because it's too hot). Slight crossover at the end.

It was a supernaturally-hot day in mid-June, the sun blazing overhead in a febrile sky. Jamie exhaled contentedly, lay back in the cool water of her inflatable paddling pool and squinted up into the hazy blue.

"Fuck me," she breathed, "never known it like this."

Olivia, lying beside her, damp curls resting on the steadily-deflating blue pool edge, sipped her Pimms and nodded.

"Hotter than the summer of '76, is it?" she said, archly.

Jamie snorted.

"Fuck me, I'm not that old, love! Mam remembers it, though. She swears blind she was attacked by a swarm of fuckin' ladybirds, that summer. Whilst she was snoggin' Joe Strummer. I tend tae think she's making it all up, though."

"Hmmm," Olivia said, gazing up through the gently dancing tangle of leaves that overlaid Jamie's tiny paved garden. "You don't remember sharing baths to save water?"

"Naaah. Only ever shared fuckin' baths with ye, love. Couldn't even think about a bath in this fuckin' heat."

Olivia rolled over onto her side, and cradled Jamie's face between her long palms. She grinned.

"Am I seeing things, or are you developing freckles?"

Jamie smiled back at her.

"Oh, aye. Like thousands of stars in the sky."

Olivia kissed her cheek, as Jamie took another sip of wine.

"Very cute they are, too."

Jamie snorted with laughter.

"Cute?! D'ye even fuckin' know me, love?"

"Of course," Olivia said, raising her glass in a salute. "To the cutest maniac ever to leave Motherwell."

Jamie picked up her glass, and clinked it against her fiancee's. They started kissing, for the tenth time that day.

"Just fer that," Jamie whispered, between kisses, "I'll kiss ye 'til ye beg fer mercy, ya Lincoln tart."

"Don't you mean Bakewell Tart?" Olivia whispered back, stooping to kiss Jamie's neck.

"I know what I mean," Jamie husked. "Geographically, almost the fuckin' same, anyway."

Olivia giggled.

"Good with cream..." she murmured.

The blissful strains of "Long Hot Summer," floating across from a tinny-sounding radio several gardens away, filled the air. Olivia wrapped her legs around Jamie's hips as the pair of them started to move in the undulating water, their bodies dappled with sunlight. Olivia gasped as Jamie nipped her neck. Jamie grinned with satisfaction.

"So good..." Jamie sighed, following up the bite with a lick, "bein' able to kick back and relax, eh, darlin'?"

"Ah, what you just did..." Olivia gasped.

"Aye?"

"Do it again..."

A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, the only sounds the songs from the drowsy, sheltering birds, the tinny radio now playing "God Only Knows", and the throaty, heartfelt sighs of the two women in the deflating, overspilling pool.

In the neighbouring garden, Wildcat, now six months old, fully-fluffed and seeking a cool place in the shade, ducked underneath a profuse rosebush and came nose-to-nose with a handsome black cat called Sebastian.


	41. Chapter 41

It just hadn't been Olivia's day. Nick, as expected, had ballsed up "Question Time" yet again. Worse still, he'd slipped on pelican droppings whilst jogging on a particularly treacherous bend in St James' Park and fallen on his arse in front of a giggling, phone-wielding crowd of bloggers. Olivia's mind was still reeling from the resulting headlines and Mal's unprecedented, hormone-fuelled rage when she opened her locker door that morning and saw a grainy photograph of herself gaffer-taped to the inside.

Cheeks burning, she studied it. It showed her on all fours in a Waitrose car park, face buried in Ed Messinger's crotch, with the following words painstakingly attached in varying newsprint fonts:

"oLivIa ReEdEr sWalLOws eVErYthInG"

"Coward," she muttered. "That fucking. Tiny. Coward."

 

"Aw, Mal!" Jamie complained. "C'mon, give 'em tae me, ya fuckin' bawbag!"

Mal, lying almost horizontally on her huge leather wingbacked chair, cradled her hugely swollen belly with one long hand as she sucked the chocolate off yet another Curly Wurly. She looked thoughtful.

"Nah," she said eventually. "I'm nae givin' ye the nuclear codes. We all ken ye've got a fuckin' temper, love."

Jamie scowled. Mal raised an amused eyebrow.

"Doin' yer best Madame Blofeld impersonation, eh?"

Jamie, who had been running her fingers through Wildcat's thick, luxuriant fur, stopped and grinned.

"Aye. Gettin' mae best super-villain act together. Gonna be standin' in fer ye whilst ye're on maternity leave, after all."

"Yeah, well. Keep that fuckin' thing away from me, OK? Don't want fuckin' toxiplasmosis, 'specially not with the wee bairns comin', OK?" Mal growled.

Wildcat looked up from Jamie's lap into Jamie's eyes and mewed, huge jade eyes meeting gigantic blue eyes, and Jamie fell in love all over again.

"Don't ye fuckin' listen to her, OK?" Jamie cooed. "Ahh, ye'll be OK," she said to Mal. "Looks like the wee ones're gonna burst straight out like the Alien's got a fuckin' twin. Actually, could ye time it fer Danielle Miller's speech at the fuckin' conference? Just tae see that smug look leave her fuckin' face?"

Mal wheezed with laughter, then winced.

"Fuck. Mae back. Mae stomach. Mae legs. My neck, my fuckin' heed. Everything fuckin' hurts. Don't get me wrong, I really love and fuckin' want these babies, but I want them out of mae fuckin' body, right now. Just...fast-forward the next two weeks and the labour, which I understand is gonna fuckin' smart quite a bit, an' I'll be fuckin' fine."

She cast an appraising eye at Jamie.

"So, ye and Goody-Slutty-Two-Shoes? Ye want kids, ever?"

Jamie shrugged.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Whatever, we'll be happy. We fuckin' love each other."

Mal smiled, then winced again, her eyelids fluttering.

"Shite," she murmured. "Sae fuckin' tired."

 

Olivia turned, and was unpleasantly surprised to see Philly sauntering towards her down the corridor. She stormed up to her.

"Hey, you! Zara fucking Phillips! Did you put this in my fucking locker?!" Olivia snarled, waving the photo in Philly's face.

Philly started, then drew herself up to her considerable height, hands arrogantly planted on hips.

"No I bloody well didn't. I couldn't care less about you and your grubby shenanigans. Everyone knows what you're like," she sneered.

"Two bloody years ago! If it wasn't you, then who was it? I know damn well it's one of your lot!" Olivia shouted.

Philly rolled her eyes.

"As a great man once sang, I really don't know and I really don't care. Now if you'd excuse me, I'm here on important business," Philly said, heading for Mal's door.

"Oh, no you bloody don't," Olivia said. In desperation she spreadeagled herself against Mal's door. "You shall not pass!" she yelled.

"What - Doctor Who?! Christ! Everyone knows Lord of the Rings is superior - " Philly said, grinning.

"No it fucking isn't, Philly, you twat-bubble!"

"Get out of the fucking way, you fucking poodle, I've got to find out why Mal's been hiding herself away all this time - "

"I'm telling you - don't! Not that I give a shit about your personal safety but it'll cost thousands to clean your blood off the fucking walls, so don't fucking go in there!" Olivia hollered.

Philly grabbed Olivia by the shoulders and hurled her to the floor. Olivia glared up at Philly as the latter ignored the laminated "Do Not Disturb Until Fucking World War 3 Breaks Out" sign, grabbed the doorknob and strode into the office.

First Mal, then a cat-cradling Jamie turned and glared at Philly. She froze.

To be continued...


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't mess with anyone Jamie loves. Or, for that matter, irritate a pregnant Mal.

Philly's gaze darted from one thunderous face to another. Even Wildcat seemed to be glowering at her. Screwing up her courage, she let out a high-pitched, triumphant squeak of laughter.

"Haaa! I knew it! Steffi said you were pregnant. Wait 'til I tell the press about thi - "

Mal rose from her chair and started waddling towards her. Philly giggled. Mal stopped. There was a glacial pause.

"What," Mal growled, "is so fuckin' funny?"

Philly's mouth fell open and made shapes, but no sound emerged.

"Answer her, ye fuckin' horse-faced nobody!" Jamie snarled, and Wildcat mewed, as if in agreement.

"Ummm, sorry. It's, it's just the way you're walking, like a penguin startled by a fire drill..." Philly said, her voice tailing away.

Mal's lower lip subsided, showing off her lower teeth. Fuck, Philly thought, her heart thumping. It's 'Face/Off' time. Namely, my face. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she saw Jamie looking over at Mal.

"Ye're mai Press Officer," Mal was saying, "an' in a few days ye'll be takin' over from me. How are we gonna deal with this fuckin' disappearance?"

Jamie sat back in her chair, caressing Wildcat's fur.

"D'ya know what, don't think anyone's gonna fuckin' notice."

"Y -you don't scare me!" Philly crowed. "I'm going to call Opposition HQ right now - "

Mal flashed Philly a smile that showed off all of her sharp teeth, which to Philly's eyes made her look like the shark from Finding Nemo.

"Fuckin' jokin', ya twat," Mal hissed.

"Aye," Jamie said, eyes blazing, "I want her to remember this."

"Oh, yeah?" Philly said, "What are you going to do, then? Take down my knickers and spank me?"

Mal's eyes widened.

"Weellll, now ye mention it...if ye'd fuckin' like that, then..."

"Christ! No!" Philly yelled, a little too quickly.

Jamie stood, and set Wildcat down on the carpet, watching adoringly as her pet streaked up the heavy drapes adorning the windows. Then she turned, glaring at Philly.

"RIght!" she barked, as such a volume that even Mal raised her eyebrows. "Bend over that fuckin' table, right now! Do! It!"

Philly, whimpering, did as she was bid. Jamie walked up behind her and frisked her.

"Oh, look," she said, reaching into Philly's jacket pocket and retrieving a sleek black object, " a smart phone."

She started scrolling through the photos of Olivia and Ed, and her and Olivia, and her and Olivia and Harry, and her and Olivia and Milo, and her and Olivia and Danielle.

"Fuckin' cheeky bitch," she said, waving the phone in Philly's face. "Riflin' through people's things, invading their fuckin' privacy. Ye should be fuckin' ashamed."

"Give it back!" Philly whined. "It's personal property..."

"SHUT IT! Ye've messed with someone I fuckin' love, ye don't deserve tae have hurt feelings! Hey, Mal! FInished wi' that water, have ye?"

Mal held up her pint glass.

"Yeah, I think so."

Jamie stalked over and dunked Philly's smart phone in the bubbling depths.

"I'll tell..." 

Mal fixed Philly with a look.

"Tell who? Peta Mannion?"

Philly nodded furiously. Mal studied her nails.

"Wouldnae fuckin' bother, love. I had lunch wi' her the other day. An' despite our political differences, we agree on one thing. We find what ye're doin' fuckin' deplorable. Oh, an' Jamie?"

Jamie, who had been gazing at the spectacle of Wildcat swinging blissfully on the drapes, turned to face her.

"Get the stuff from the fridge would ye?"

Jamie grinned as she pulled back the curtain and wrenched the black door open. She retrieved a couple of items, then started popping individual cubes from an ice tray as she advanced on Philly.

"See, ye're very hot fer promotion, aren't ye love?" she hissed in Philly's ear. "Let me fuckin' cool ye down, eh?"

Philly tensed, then shrieked as Jamie slid a succession of ice cubes down the back of her blouse collar.

"An' that's fer tryin' tae beat up mae fiancee. I havenae fuckin' forgotten."

"She started it..." Philly said, her words turning into a shriek as an ice cube hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"Och, dear," Jamie said, looking at Mal. "She's not playin' ball. What's this horrible-looking green stuff?" she said, looking at a frosted glass container.

"Hmm," Mal said, grinning, "that's somethin' Sammy created fer me, bless him. A spinach-asparagus-avocado smoothie. Got nae intention of drinkin' the fuckin' thing, so ye go ahead."

Philly winced as the horrible, freezing cold khaki slime tipped over her head and slid down her lank hair, dripping onto her blouse.

"Don't forget, ye said somethin' about spanking, love," Mal said. "An' I've got a super-sensitive sense of smell, love. I can smell yer fuckin' hormones. Marigolds?" she said, tossing a packet over to Jamie. "This is dirty work!"

Jamie grinned as she pulled up Philly's skirt to her waist, then yanked her white briefs down. Then, leaned in close.

"Fact is," she husked in Philly's ear, "I know ye want me. Most people do."

Philly looked back at her, nodding fearfully.

"But," Jamie said, pulling on one yellow rubber glove, then the other, with some ceremony, "this is all ye're gonna get from me."

Philly winced and yelled as Jamie smacked one firm, pliant buttock, then the other, with increasing force, fright and humiliation and pleasure mingling, and to her utter, utter shame, she didn't want it to end. After at least twenty hard slaps. Jamie broke away and stood, admiring her handiwork.

"Hmmm. Vermillion. Not a shade ye see often, eh, Mal?"

"Aye. Bored already," Mal said, yawning. She glared at Philly. "Now, get out of mae fuckin' sight, ye waste of human skin."

Cringing, Philly readjusted her clothing, preparing to go. She glanced beseechingly at Mal.

"Can I have my phone ba - "

"GET. OUT."

Philly hurried out of the office, flushed, soaked and dripping with green liquid, past the curious eyes of MPs, civil servants, and past Olivia, who was laughing fit to burst.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short celebratory chapter about today's special announcement. :)

Jamie and Olivia were curled up on Jamie's massive black leather sofa, watching the end of the Men's Singles Final at Wimbledon on TV. Applause rang out, and Jamie exhaled.

"Well," she said, "end of the fuckin' match. Won't be long now."

"God," Olivia said, "I can't wait. I'm bloody shaking."

"Are ye?" Jamie cooed, extending an arm around her. "C'mere."

The two of them kissed, until Jamie eventually broke away, gently stroking Olivia's face. They smiled at each other.

"Always a special fuckin' time, eh? Change. What the show's always needed."

"Yeah," Olivia said, picking up her Pimms and sipping. "I'll really miss Peter though. Lovely Doctor, lovely guy."

"Aye, me too. Great Glasgow lad. Mam fancies him somethin' rotten. Even I..."

"Really?!" Olivia said, grinning widely. "Even you fancy Peter Capaldi?! Can't say I blame you, he's gorgeous."

"Aye," Jamie said, smirking, "must be those gorgeous fuckin' curls of his. They remind me of yours," she said, twining her fingers in Olivia's hair and stroking. "But silver instead of mahogany, sweetheart. And not as long, though they're gettin' there."

Olivia closed her eyes as Jamie massaged her scalp. Then peered at the screen over the top of her glasses.

"Christ, Roger, I like you and everything - "

"Everyone fuckin' likes Roger Federer. It's impossible not to - "

" - but will you fucking hurry up! I want to know who's playing the new Doctor!"

"Och, hang on, they're goin' tae the studio - oh no, it's Tim and Boris talkin' about the final."

Olivia sighed.

"Yeah, we know Roger's won. Come on!"

Jamie twined her fingers with Olivia's and kissed her earlobe.

"Let me distract ye, then..."

They kissed, not breaking away until the screen changed. A hooded figure in a long coat, walking through woodland.

"Oooh, is this it?"

"Looks like it!"

Wildcat chose that moment to leap up onto the TV table, rubbing her furry flanks against the screen and purring.

"Awww, Wildcat...!"

"Shh, darlin'. She's excited, too."

The figure's hand extended, and a TARDIS key appeared in their palm.

"Wait - I can't see! There's a huge furry tail in the way!"

"Oh...!"

Clear eyes, long lashes. The figure pulled back their hood. Blonde tresses. An expression of bliss, of wonder, spreading across that beautiful face. The new Doctor walked towards the TARDIS.

"OHHH!"

"YEEESSS!"

"Time for champagne? I've put a bottle in the fridge."

"Fuck, just stop me! Kiss first?"

"Hmmm, sounds good to me..."


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic smut and fluff.
> 
> Next up, high drama, and Stephanie's carpet gets ruined. RUINED!

Olivia sighed as she looked through the window at the horizontal rain lashing the trees in Jamie's tiny garden.

"Fucking August!" she said. "What happened to summer?!"

Jamie, sprawled back on the pillows on her massive bed, smiled at her.

"Ye think this is fuckin' bad, love?" she said. "Try comin' tae Scotland. It's fuckin' tropical in London by comparison, believe me."

"Yeah, well, you're probably right. Christ. I hope it's not like this for our wedding, Jamie."

"Awww, yer soft Sassenach lassie," Jamie said, extending her arms. "C'mere."

Olivia clambered up onto the bed and crawled over to her. Jamie embraced her from behind, burying her face in Olivia's wild hair.

"Love yer hair. Real Crystal Tipps hair."

"Uh, who's Crystal Tipps? I must have missed her."

"Trippy kids' cartoon. Gal with mad hair an' her Golden Labrador called Alistair. Sensible wee dog with a great Scots name."

Olivia rolled over and the two of them embraced face to face.

"Stop worryin' about the rain, love," Jamie murmured.

"What rain?" Olivia said, gazing into Jamie's beautiful blue eyes.

They kissed, slowing pulling off each others' clothes, their hands straying over each other.

"Just think," Jamie said, undoing Olivia's bra, "we'll be out there in the rain, whilst everyone else is shelterin' inside, in the pourin' rain, kissin' each other with our dresses clingin' to our bodies..."

"Yeah," Olivia said, breath hitching as Jamie's teeth raked at her nipples, "go on, sell it to me..."

Jamie chuckled, then drew away and kissed her neck.

"But first...pass me a brownie, would ye, love?"

"Oh, OK then," Olivia said, reaching for the plate of chocolate brownies on the bedside cabinet and handing it to her. Jamie took one and gazed lovingly at it.

"Jesus, love. These things are the eighth wonder of the fuckin' world." She bit into it, her eyes closing with pleasure. "Hmm. Love tae think of ye cookin' these, darlin'. Wearin' just a wee pink gingham apron..."

"Really?" Olivia said, eyes sparkling. "I could do that for you. You could watch."

"Hmmm. Thinkin' of it right now. Ye bending over tae put them in the oven. Ye know how much I love yer arse, darlin'."

"Mmm," Olivia said, hands running over Jamie's shapely bottom. "And I yours."

"Later, love. This thing isn't gonna eat itself."

Jamie placed the chocolate brownie between her lips and raised her eyebrows suggestively. Olivia bent forward and the two of them started eating the brownie until their lips met. They both moaned as they found themselves sharing melted chocolate brownie mulch between them.

"Hmmm," Olivia gasped as she came up for air. Jamie, mouth smeared with chocolate, grinned at her.

"Know somethin'? I'm still fuckin' hungry."

"Me too. Shall we?"

They kissed again, and then Olivia twisted herself around until her head was level with Jamie's crotch. She smiled as she spread her lover's pink, shining lips apart.

"Hold on to me," she murmured. "I'm going to make you come so fucking hard."

She felt Jamie's moan reverberating all the way through her as she started stroking her with her tongue, gasping as Jamie's mouth found her clit and started sucking hard, not stopping until the light outside had faded and the room was almost in darkness. Jamie, finally, broke away, gasping, sweating and exhausted.

"Christ!" she moaned. She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. "Fuck me! Four hours?!"

"Time flies when you're having fun," Olivia gasped, lying back against the pillows. Jamie hugged her. They lay quietly for a while, the only sound their heavy breathing and the rain still pattering on the windows.

"Sounds great, the rain," Olivia said, cradling Jamie's head between her breasts.

"Not as great as your heartbeat," Jamie murmured. "It's poundin' through me, darlin'."

Olivia stroked Jamie's hair and smiled.

"I love you so much," she sighed.

"Oh, darlin'. I love ye so much, too."

A sudden movement caught Olivia's eye. Wildcat had a discarded blue T-shirt of Jamie's in her mouth, and was walking towards the door.

"Hey, what's Wildcat doing?"

Wildcat squeezed through a gap in the doorway, her huge fluffy tail waving a goodbye.

"Dunno. She's done that quite a few times recently."

"Maybe she's cold?"

"Aye, maybe she is. Hey - ye cold, darlin'?"

"Not at all."

They held each other close, their breathing slowing and their eyes closing, until finally they drifted off into a deep sleep.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal goes into labour. And Juliet says what probably everyone, everywhere, has wanted to say to Stephanie.

It was way into the early hours on a Wednesday morning, and rain was lashing the windows of DoSAC's headquarters. Inside Stephanie's sterile, airtight, frosted-glass office, the only moisture present was in the beads of sweat pearling on everyone's brows. Stephanie peered at the ream of paper crammed inside her clipboard, then looked up at the others.

"Right!" she snapped, wearing her trademark false grin, "It seems that everything's in order now! Now that you've left the running of the government's affairs to..." she said, peering at her clipboard and following the text with a forefinger, "a certain Miss-Jame-eeee-Mac-Donnnn-allllld."

She smirked at Mal.

"Now, darling! I'd love to hear the thought processes that led to that particular delegation!"

Her smile hitched up another notch.

"Ever seen the creepy woman with the fish in the 'Black Hole Sun' video?" Sam muttered to Juliet. "That was worse."

"What was that?!" Stephanie barked, teeth bared, her eyes glittering with hatred.

"Nothing. Just...just discussing Point 1," Sam stammered.

"Because," Mal husked, in a near-whisper, "the woman's a fuckin' professional. I trust her not tae fuck things up, OK?"

She placed a hand on her huge belly, and inhaled sharply.

"OK!" Stephanie said, chuckling mirthlessly. "Let's...just row, row, row our way back to the boathouse on this one! Nowwwww..." she said, approaching Mal, condescension emanating from her in waves, "I know Jamie's your friend. And we like the fact she's your friend. But," she said, poking Mal's arm, "don't you think - " poke, "she's -" poke, "just - " poke, "a little bit - " poke, "unpredictable?"

Mal stared at her. Then her jaw dropped, as a gush of water streamed from between her legs and onto the carpet beneath her.

"Ah, fuck," she whispered. "Don't ye think...this meetin' could be adjourned, now?"

Sam and Juliet both rushed over to her and stood either side, holding a hand each.

"'Cause, mae waters have just broken. Fuck. That was fuckin' weird," Mal gasped.

Stephanie's eyes flashed.

"When you've QUITE FINISHED!" she yelled, "You may not have noticed but we've QUITE A LOT TO GET THROUGH, here!"

"And I don't know if you've noticed," said Juliet, the air around her getting colder by the second, "but there's a woman about to go into labour here."

"I DON'T CARE!" Stephanie screamed. "We're NOT STOPPING FOR - "

Mal bent forward and vomited over a nearby table. Sam leapt forward and held her hair back.

"Oh, that's LOVELY! That REALLY gives us a lot to work with, Mal! Such a positive contribution to - "

"Shut up," Juliet murmured.

" - the meeting! And the carpet's RUINED now! RUINED! What the hell's the PM going to say now, darling? Impressed, eh? I DON'T THINK SO - "

"I said," Juliet growled, staring directly at Stephanie, "Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

Stephanie's thin mouth fell open, then shut again with an audible snap. And then Mal bent double.

"SHIIIIIIITTTT!" she screamed. "GOD! JULIET! SAM! Call me a fuckin' ambulance, RIGHT NOW!"

Sam started dialling frantically, as Juliet crouched behind a kneeling Mal.

"Darling," she murmured, embracing her, "don't worry. They're coming."

 

Jamie woke from a dreamless sleep, with Olivia's long limbs twined around her and her mobile phone trilling. She reached tiredly across to answer it.

"Aye?" she murmured. Then her eyes widened.

"SHITE! OK, OK. I'm on it!"

"Hmmmm?" Olivia murmured sleepily.

"Wake up, Miss Clinging Ivy," Jamie said, kissing her forehead. "It's on! It's on like Fat Paddy's Thong! C'mon, let's fuckin' go!"


	46. Chapter 46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to A, in loving memory.

"Fuck!" Jamie exploded, gazing helplessly at the endless, rain-blurred red tail-lights ahead of her. "Only fuckin' London would have traffic like this at three in the fuckin' morning!"

She punched the dashboard, and immediately regretted it.

"SHITE! Shite, that fuckin' hurt!"

A still-drowsy Olivia, sitting in the passenger seat next to her, took Jamie's hand and kissed her throbbing knuckles.

"I want that hand in one piece," she murmured. Jamie grinned.

"Aye-aye, ma'am. Christ, ye're filthy."

"You wouldn't have me any other way," Olivia said. Then her eyes widened.

"Oh - look at that!" she said. 

The car ahead of them moved. Magically, the jam seemed to be dissipating. 

"Aye. Fuckin' on it," Jamie shouted, jamming her foot down on the accelerator.

 

The door to Stephanie's office burst open, and a team of paramedics rushed in, wheeling a stretcher between them. Mal, crouched beside Stephanie's desk, could only flail helplessly at them in response. Juliet and Sam rubbed her back as the paramedics gently lifted her onto the stretcher. Stephanie stood next to the wall, her arms folded.

"I'll be sending you a bill for the mess you've made in here," she hissed. Sam and Juliet glared at her.

"Ye're fuckin' lucky it didn't come out the other end..." Mal gasped, as the paramedics wheeled her out of the room, Sam and Juliet hurrying after her.

Juliet and Sam put up their umbrellas outside the building to shield Mal from the rain and paparazzi until she was safely inside the ambulance, holding a hand each as it sped away.

"Didn't - FUCK! - didn't know it would be this fuckin' bumpy," Mal said, trying to smile.

"How are you feeling, love?" said the friendly, plump, green-uniformed woman beside the stretcher.

"Like there's a fuckin' football about tae tear out of me..." Mal said, the last word coming out as a wail. Another paramedic checked her blood pressure.

"B.P. raised, 135 over 40..." he said, gazing at the screen.

Mal screeched, and grasped the hands holding hers.

"OH GOOOOD!! Juliet! SAM! They're...they're coming! THEY'RE FUCKIN' COMIN'!"

 

"Ah, Chreeest! Not another fuckin' jam!" Jamie spluttered. Olivia stroked her arm.

"Relax. It'll take ages yet. Friend of mine's birth took three days."

Jamie shuddered.

"Ooh, don't. I don't wanna know. Fuck, it's clearing again," she said, as the cars sped forward in front of them.

Olivia's mobile rang, and she answered it.

"Oh, hi Terry. How are things?"

Her eyes widened.

"Fuck! Really?! Already?! OK, OK...Terry, which hospital...St George's? Right. See you there."

"Oh fuck!" Jamie moaned. "That's the other fuckin' way!"

 

At the hospital, they hurried down the echoing corridors, not stopping until they came to the ward. They pushed through the doors, and saw Danielle, Nick, Terry, Bernice, Glenda, Robin, Harry and Milo standing around the end of the bed in a semi-circle. In the middle, Mal lay propped on pillows, holding two tiny bundles against her, with Sam and Juliet both standing by the bed and smiling, proudly. Mal looked exhausted, yet strangely triumphant. She raised her head and glared at the late arrivals.

"You took yer fuckin' time, you two," she snapped.

"Fuckin' traffic," Jamie snapped back. "Congratulations, by the way."

Terry raised his hand, hesitantly.

"Um, may I make a suggestion, Mal?"

Mal eyed him warily.

"It's just...have you kept the placenta at all?" He gulped. "It's just that...some women like to eat it, cooked, afterwards. It's supposed to be full of nutrients and vitamins and...OK, maybe not..."

The others quailed at Mal's murderous expression. And then one of the babies mewed in their sleep, and her face burst into a delighted smile.

"Everyone," she murmured, nodding towards the baby on her left, "this one is Caitlin. And this one's Alexander. Welcome to this amazing fuckin' planet, babes."


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Olivia meets someone who looks very familiar. And there are more new arrivals.

"Jesus," Jamie said in an exhausted tone as she parked the car, "thought we'd never fuckin' get home."

She put the brake on and yawned widely.

"C'mon," Olivia said, rubbing her back, "time for bed."

Jamie nodded, then undid her seatbelt, opened the door and staggered out. Olivia climbed out of the door and slammed the door shut. Jamie locked the car, then leaned tiredly against the bonnet. Olivia wrapped her arm around her and helped her to the door. Once inside, they flopped down onto Jamie's big double bed and fell asleep immediately.

Jamie woke to the feel of Olivia's soft lips kissing down her neck. She smiled, then sat up suddenly.

"What's up?" Olivia said, arching her fine eyebrows.

"The door's open," Jamie said, nodding to the corner of the room.

"And...?"

"Means that Wildcat would usually be curled up on the bed, luxuriating in our fuckin' warmth, yeah? An' she's nae fuckin' here."

"Oh, love," Olivia said, taking Jamie's worried face between her palms, "I'm sure she's fine. Probably still out on the tiles."

"Hmm," Jamie said, as Olivia kissed her. "I - I'm sure ye're right."

 

As the day went on, there was still no sign of Wildcat. Jamie sat disconsolately at the kitchen table, staring into space.

"Nothin'" she whimpered. "Not a fuckin' sign of her. Jeez, Livvy, I'm so fuckin' worried."

Livvy reached down into a cupboard and drew out a packet of cat biscuits.

"Look, I'll go outside and shake it, OK? If that doesn't summon her, then we can start worrying."

She walked over to the table and kissed Jamie's forehead.

"Back soon, OK?"

Jamie nodded. Olivia unlocked the back door and stepped out into the overgrown garden. It was an unseasonably hot day, and the sunlight was slanting and fierce. Olivia shielded her eyes as she shook the packet.

"Wildcat!" she called out. "Where are you? Come and get your biscuits!"

She stood still, looking around her. She headed towards the back gate, and heard the sound of another packet being shaken.

"Sebastian! Where are you?"

She stood at the back gate, and found herself staring into her own eyes. She recoiled, and the person in front of her did the same.

"Sorry!" they said. "Didn't mean to startle you. I've lost my cat. I wondered if he was in the area at all?"

She stared at him. A lanky young man, slightly taller than her, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved crimson T shirt, wild dark curls, pallid skin, little wire glasses, the same eyes, the same build. Jesus, she thought. How weird is this?

"Uh, I don't know. What does he look like?" she said.

"Black cat. Short haired. Bit like a panther," said the young man.

Olivia swayed and placed her hands in the pockets of her short crimson-and-blue tartan dress, and started as the young man simultaneously swayed and placed his hands in his jeans pockets. Fuck, we even move the same way, she thought. They both laughed, nervously.

"Uh, sorry. Didn't introduce myself. My name's Ollie."

"Olivia..." Olivia said, trailing off. The young man extended his hand to shake hers, then found himself wavering.

"Um, sorry, better not. Blinovitch Limitation Effect and all that..."

Olivia nodded.

"Good point..."

They paused, staring at each other. And then a black cat slid through the gate, and started twining itself around Ollie's legs, purring. Ollie stooped down and picked him up.

"Sebastian! Where have you been?" he mock-scolded, stroking him under the chin. "Uh, thanks. Nice to meet you," he said.

"Likewise," Olivia said.

"Livvy!" Jamie shouted from out of the back door. 

"Gotta go," Olivia said. She turned her back on Ollie and raced back down the garden.

Jamie flung her arms around Olivia.

"I found her!" she shouted, "C'mere, quick!"

She led Olivia into a recess, then placed a finger against her lips as she gently pulled the door to the airing cupboard. Wildcat's eyes flicked open and calmly gazed at them both. Seven tiny scraps of multicoloured fluff clung to her abdomen, suckling from her. The sound of tiny, contented mews filled the air. Jamie's lower lip started trembling.

"They're...they're so beautiful..." she said, tears of happiness beginning to course down her face. "Wildcat. You clever girl."

Olivia drew Jamie into a deep hug, and kissed her cheek.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's raining (again), so Jamie and Olivia use the time for a Doctor Who marathon, whilst naming the kittens. Peak fluff.

Jamie lay on her sofa with Olivia draped over her lap. All around the sitting room, exceptionally fluffy kittens were swinging from their front claws from the curtains, chasing their tails and each other, leaping from mantelpiece to floor and back again and, in one case, batting around pieces from an unfinished jigsaw across the table. Rain lashed the windows, and Jamie sighed contentedly as the credits rolled for Doctor Who.

"Awww," she said, hugging Olivia, "'Gridlock'. I fuckin' love this one."

"Yeah, me too," Olivia said, relaxing further back into Jamie's warmth. The largest of the kittens, white with black patches, climbed up the sofa and up Olivia's dress, coming to rest on her upper chest and nuzzling against her chin.

"Hello, gorgeous," Olivia cooed, caressing the warm, already-purring bundle, "what's your name, then?"

"I know that one's a boy," Jamie said. "Shall we call him Captain Jack? He's very affectionate and he fuckin' fancies everyone."

"Suits him," Olivia said, gazing into Jack's deep blue eyes. Jack mewed.

"Aw, Doctor!" Jamie shouted at the screen. "Don't tell Martha that! Yer planet's fuckin' gone!"

A tabby kitten clambered up the armrest and placed a paw on Jamie's arm. Jamie's face broke into a big smile as the kitten gazed up at her.

"Aww, she's so pretty. Adventurous, too."

"Shall we call her Martha, then?"

"Yeah. An' that one? What shall we call her?" Jamie said, gesturing to the ginger kitten on the table, who was busily destroying the jigsaw.

"That's easy. Donna. Oh...wait!" Olivia said, her eyes on the screen again, "Martha, watch out...!"

They both squealed as Martha was grabbed from behind by kidnappers.

"Fuck, it's tense, this bit. I know it's gonna be OK, but even so..."

"Oh, here it comes. Wait for it, wait for it...!"

"MAR-THAAAAAAAAAAA!" they both shrieked in unison with the Doctor, before dissolving into laughter. Two kittens, one grey, one white, turned and stared at them, nonplussed.

"Ooh, what about those two?" Olivia said.

The grey kitten approached the white kitten, clearly hoping to play, but she flatly ignored him.

"Ahh, right. Mickey and Rose."

"You tell 'em, Doctor," Jamie said, as the Doctor rounded on the mood-sellers.

"He may be cute but you wouldn't wanna hang around when he's angry with you," Olivia said.

The smallest of the kittens, black with a white shirt front and paws, started clawing the sofa.

"Much like her," Jamie said, turning her head. "She's tiny, but fierce as fuck."

"Clara," Olivia said, immediately.

"Oh - the Cassini sisters!"

"We'll still be together, when we're their age," Olivia said.

"Forever, sweetheart," Jamie whispered.

They kissed, then cuddled closer and continued watching in blissful silence. Another kitten, gorgeously patterned in big orange, black and white patches, jumped up onto the sofa and curled up into a ball next to them.

"She's lovely," Olivia murmured. "So, so cute and friendly."

"Bill," Jamie said, immediately, tickling behind Bill's ears. "Who d'ye think their dad is?"

"There was a big black cat in the garden a couple of weeks ago. When we thought Wildcat was missing. I think that might be him. Actually..." Olivia said, frowning, "something strange happened that day."

"Oh aye?"

"Someone came looking for him. It was a bloke but...he looked almost exactly like me. Same walk, same glasses..." Olivia said, tailing off. Jamie stroked her arm.

"Don't ye worry, sweetheart. They say everyone has a fuckin' double. Don't know what I'd do if I met mine, though. We'd start brawlin', or kissin'. One of the two."

"Hmm. Could I join in with the kissing?" Olivia said, batting her eyelashes at Jamie. Jamie laughed.

"Christ! Could ye be any more perfect, love?"

"Kittens!" Olivia exclaimed, as Valerie and Brannigan's family appeared onscreen. They watched, beaming, then Olivia clapped her hands together.

"The Doctor's gonna go and find Martha! I love this bit!"

"Aye, me too! G'wan, Doctor!" Jamie hollered, as the Doctor started his epic leap between the cars, down and down, heading towards the bottom of the motorway.


	49. Chapter 49

Warm water pelted down over Jamie and Olivia's naked bodies. Olivia leaned forward and placed her palms on the shiny sapphire tiles, shuddering with pleasure as Jamie's hand tightened around her soaked curls.

"Fuck me, darling," she moaned, gasping as Jamie thrust the free end of the double dildo inside her. Jamie's hold on her hair loosened. Her hands slid lower, pinching Olivia's nipples before sliding down her slippery skin and over her back.

"Fuckin' great way to christen the shower," Jamie gasped. She cupped and spread Olivia's pert buttocks apart for a better view. "Fuck. Ye love my big cock inside yer, eh, you horny bitch?"

"Oh, God! Harder, Jamie!" Olivia breathed out.

"Christ. Looks so great. Gonna come inside yer, sweetheart. Come fer me," Jamie snarled, sliding a hand between Olivia's wide-spread legs and stroking. Her eyes rolled back as Olivia started bucking. "God, feels so fuckin' great. Oh, you good girl. Gonna..."

She threw her head back and howled as she came, Olivia's screams of ecstasy ringing round the tiles.

Jamie was towel-drying Olivia's hair when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Olivia said, stooping to kiss Jamie on the lips before hurriedly donning her white towelling dressing gown and heading for the door.

She opened the door, and her eyes widened.

"Mum! What - what are you doing here?!"

Her mother smiled, somewhat ruefully.

"Just thought I'd drop by. You told me you'd moved but it's so hard to get hold of you, these days. Can I come in?"

"Of course," Olivia said, flustered. "Come in."

"What on earth were you doing, showering this late in the day?"

"Um", Olivia said, her face flushing as she pushed open the door to the living room, dodging several racing kittens as she did so. "So...how was your journey, then?"

Jamie, clad in her leather jacket and a new floral dress, walked into the living room to find Olivia sitting with a woman who, minus the glasses, was an older, shorter copy of her. The woman's lips parted in a very familiar fashion and she stood up.

"Hello. I'm Olivia's mother. You...you must be Jamie, then?" she said as she walked over.

"Aye, that's me," Jamie said, smiling broadly, extending her hand.

"Christine. It's...it's nice to meet you. You're not how I'd imagined you to be, somehow."

"Oh, aye? What were ye expectin' then?"

"Well...you're really quite feminine, aren't you? I was expecting someone who was, well, rather butch..."

"Mum!" Olivia hissed, but Jamie just laughed.

"What, hen? Expectin' a crew cut, flannel shirt and dungarees, were ye? Tats an' huge fu- ah, big biceps? I mean, fine if ye like that sort of thing, but it's not fer me. I can see ye've finished yer cup o' tea - can I get ye another?"

"Thank you," Christine said, smiling as she handed it over.

"I'll let ye catch up on yer news," Jamie said, "Ye must have a lot tae catch up with."

She left for the kitchen. Olivia cleared her throat.

"So. Have you - heard from Dad at all?"

Christine sighed.

"I've tried with him, love. But, you know what he's like. He just gets these ideas fixed in his head and he won't budge them for anyone. Not even for his only child, it would seem." She sniffled.

"Oh God. Mum, please don't cry."

Christine regained her composure, and smiled bravely. She put her hand on Olivia's shoulder.

"If he could only see how happy you look," she said softly. "She seems...she seems charming."

"She's a bit more than that," Olivia said, smiling back. "She's wonderful."

"AWWWW, FUCK!" Jamie yelled from the kitchen, causing Christine to jolt with surprise. "FUCKIN' DEAD MOUSE ON THE FUCKIN' TOASTER!"


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jamie, Olivia and Glenda go shopping for bride's dresses.
> 
> 50 chapters so far and much more still to come... :D

"Awww, Glenda, Robin, get a fuckin' move on!" Jamie shouted from the doorway.

Puffing and harassed, muttering apologies, Glenda and Robin pushed their way through the mutinous crowd onto the packed Tube train a split-second before the doors closed. 

"God almighty," Glenda moaned, leaning against Robin, "did we really have to take the Tube? I hate Clapham Common station. I always think I'm going to fall onto the tracks. Couldn't we have taken the car, instead?"

Olivia, hanging onto one of the ceiling straps, Jamie's arms locked around her waist, raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Really?! When was the last time you drove in central London?"

"Don't know, offhand. Nineteen eighty...anyway, that's not the point," Glenda said hurriedly. "It's going to be hell, getting all the stuff back."

"Ahh, dinnae worry," Jamie said, pointing at Glenda's vast wheeled suitcase, "ye could fit the entire fuckin' shop in that."

Robin beamed at Glenda.

"Clever darling," he cooed at her, "always prepared."

"Proper fuckin' Brown Owl, isn't she?" Jamie said.

"Snowy Owl, more like," Olivia said archly. Glenda glared at her.

"Oh, thanks a bunch, Oli," she snapped. "Sorry," she added as her case collided with an angry-looking man's knee. Robin nuzzled her hair.

"I just can't wait to see you in that dress later," he said. Glenda froze.

 

"Not far tae go, now," Jamie said, as the four of them scurried down New Bond Street, the shop windows alive with fairy lights and Glenda's wheeled case scraping and hiccuping across the uneven pavement. Jamie and Olivia walked hand in hand, occasionally breaking into a skipping motion, both of them grinning excitedly. Glenda, by contrast, looked increasingly worried.

"Um, Robin..." she said.

"What is it, my sweet?"

"It's, well, it's going to be a bit dull for you, waiting for us to put on our dresses. Why, why don't you go and look at the window display at Fortnum and Mason's? Or, hang around the menswear section at Debenhams. They sell lovely, er, hankies. You're always saying you can't find any hankies. And, you know, pens."

Robin's face fell slightly.

"But I want to see you, my love."

Glenda turned and kissed him on the lips.

"I know. And it's very sweet of you. It's just...I want it to be a surprise, OK?"

"OK..." Robin said. Glenda smiled.

"See you later, OK?"

"Come on!" Jamie hooted at her. Robin stood, looking small and forlorn as he watched her hurrying to catch up with Jamie and Olivia, her case scraping and bumping along behind her.

 

"God," Glenda intoned, "I hate leaving him behind. But, you know what they say..."

"Aye, what? Fuckin' spit it out, Grotbags!" Jamie snorted.

"...I don't even know who that is. Because, Jamie, it's bad luck for your husband to see you in your wedding dress before the big day! Look, Robin's the only stroke of luck I've had in my entire life - I'm hardly going to fucking tempt fate, am I?!"

"Never mind, Glennie," Olivia said blithely as she and Jamie skipped ahead. "If it all goes tits-up, you can still be our Maid of Honour."

"Thanks a bunch, Minx of Dishonour!" Glenda muttered.

 

Jamie's and Olivia's eyes widened as they stepped inside the bridal shop.

"Fuck me," Jamie breathed, gazing awestruck at the pristine, glittering, taffeta and sequinned whiteness that filled her vision. Olivia squealed.

"It's beautiful!" she said. "Not sure white's my colour, though..."

"That's true enough," Glenda muttered. "Pure as the driven slush, you are." Olivia stuck her tongue out at her.

A smartly-coiffured blonde, slim woman in a lilac suit and stratospheric heels approached them.

"Good evening, ladies," she said, her smile revealing a set of perfect white teeth, "my name's Julietta. Come with me and I'll help you select the perfect dresses for the best day of your lives. Excuse me," she said to Glenda, her smile never wavering, "would you mind putting your case against the wall for now? We don't want to spoil the carpet now, do we?"

"Sorry," Glenda muttered, for the second time that day.

To be continued...


	51. Chapter 51

"Nearly there?" Olivia said, her eyes fixed on the long white velvet drapes of the changing cubicle.

"Almost, darlin'", Jamie said, reaching up to fix the remaining hooks of Olivia's black lace corset. "There, that's got it. Turn around, love."

Olivia did so, and Jamie whistled, appreciatively.

"Fuck me. Ye look great, love."

"Christ. You too, Jay," Olivia said, gazing down at the spectacular orbs of Jamie's uplifted boobs. She ran a long forefinger across the jet-black seam, caressing the pale, silky-soft skin immediately above it. "Taffeta, yeah?"

"Lace," Jamie said, running her hand over the gauzy fabric almost covering Olivia's backside. Olivia gasped and giggled as Jamie's hand slid underneath the fabric.

"Don't you want to try the dress on first?" she murmured, batting her long eyelashes at Jamie.

"Mood I'm in," Jamie growled, in between nips at Olivia's almost-concealed nipples, "I'd fuckin' rip it off ye. It can wait."

"Ah - ahhhh! Good point...!"

 

In the neighbouring cubicle, Glenda slid the straps of her long, silver-grey satin dress over her shoulders, and examined herself in the mirror. Modest as she was, she had to admit she didn't look half bad. The colour complimented her smart, grey bobbed hair, and the iron grip of the Spanx underwear was helping keep her bumpy stomach under control. She nodded at her reflection, and reached behind to pull up her zip.

"Oh, Jamie," she heard Olivia gasp from the next cubicle, "do me. Do me hard."

Glenda gulped. She hadn't counted on that happening. All of a sudden, she wanted to find another booth. Her thoughts were cut short by the sound of giggling and kissing. Furiously, she pulled at her zip. As if in slow motion, she felt it stiffen and finally stop in her grip. Close to panicking, she squeezed her eyes shut as she heard a series of moans.

"Hands on the wall," she heard Jamie mutter, "gonnae put all five fingers in ye..."

"Oh God, Jamie...!"

"Oh, God!" Glenda mouthed. She certainly wasn't narrow-minded - in fact, she'd had more fun with Robin in their bath recently than she'd ever thought possible - but she could do without the mental image of her friend and colleague being used as an oversized glove puppet. Twisting her head, she could see the zip had caught in her bra strap, the shining fabric stretched taut. Oh, fucking great, she thought. Olivia started gasping. No, she thought. Block it out. Concentrate on getting the bloody zip free...

"...that's it, buck against mae hand, ye bad gurrrlll...."

I'm not hearing this, Glenda thought. I'm not actually here. This isn't happening. I'm never borrowing any of Jamie's pens ever again...la, la, la, la, la...

Olivia's cries started interspersing with shrieks as the unmistakable sound of spanking filtered through the wall. And then Glenda heard Robin's voice:

"Darling, I'm back! Anything wrong, love? Are you having trouble - "

And then she heard a swish of curtains, a horrified yell, two shrieks, the sound of curtains being hurriedly drawn, and, finally, silence, as at last the zip yielded, and Glenda could breathe properly again.

 

Back in her normal clothes, Glenda stepped out of the booth. Robin stood just outside the changing room, looking slightly shaken.

"You OK?" she said.

"Hmm," Robin said, "you know that line from that song? 'I've seen some things that a woman ain't supposed to see'? I can definitely say, as a bloke, I've seen something I wasn't supposed to see..." he said, trailing off.

Glenda rolled her eyes as the sound of giggling and kissing recommenced from the closed-off booth.

"Let's go to the pub, shall we?" she said to Robin. "I'll text those two lovebirds to let them know where we are. If they ever decide to come out of there. Come on, let's get the case," she said, extending her arm to him.


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stephanie's outdoor activities catch up with her.

Mal reclined on the sofa with her feet up as Juliet and Sam, holding one baby each, walked round and round the sitting room trying to rock them to sleep. Juliet held Caitlin up in the air and smiled delightedly up into her chubby little face.

"Daddy wouldn't buy me a bow-wow..." she sang, in her perfectly-modulated tones.

"When do babies start laughing?" Sam said, gently stroking Alexander's tiny, fleece-covered back.

"Three months, generally," Mal said.

"I've got a little cat, and I'm very fond of that..."

"Any minute now, then," Sam said.

"...I'd rather have a bow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow..."

"Jules," Mal said, amused, "ye do know that song's actually fuckin' filthy Victorian porn, don't ye? Nothin' against that, just not in front of the bairns, OK?"

Juliet thought for a second, then stopped dead.

"Goodness. Yes, I've just spotted the analogy. Well. I learn something every day."

"C'mere, you two," Mal said, spreading out her long arms. Juliet and Sam gratefully subsided next to her, arms full of wriggly babies. Mal kissed Sam's cheek, then Juliet's.

"Once the little ones're off tae sleep...how about an early night?" she husked, raising her eyebrows.

 

Meanwhile, in Mal's office, a half-asleep Jamie sat in front of Mal's computer, fiddling with a biro, when Mal's email pinged. She opened it, watched the attached video, and her eyes flicked wide open. She picked up the phone.

"Livvy!" she hollered. "C'mere, darlin'! Ye've fuckin' gotta see this!"

Nick Murray crept towards Mal's door as if approaching a wolves' den. The last time he'd encountered Olivia and Jamie together, it hadn't gone well, what with the faux-seduction and then that awful mix-up with Mal, which ended up with her almost throttling him with his own tie. Nervously, he pushed open the door and was perplexed to see Jamie and Olivia looking at Mal's computer, almost bent double with mirth.

"Hey, Nick, luv!" Jamie shrieked. "Come over an' get a load of this!"

Nick walked forward cautiously and stood a safe distance behind them. He watched the video, and then his mouth crumpled upwards. He tried to suppress it.

"Oh...oh, fuck. That's...that's serious. I'm - we're - gonna need some back-up. Mind if I get Terry in?"

"Go ahead!" whimpered Olivia, practically weeping with hysterical laughter.

Three minutes later, an intermittently-guffawing crowd was huddled around the computer.

"Where is it?" said Nikki Hanway, smirking. "I don't recognise it. Is it in London?"

"Essex. Epping Forest," said Bernice. "I recognise the car park. I often eat picnics at that table. Ooh, look at that bounce!"

"Thing is," said Glenda, between helpless chuckles, "bald patch and nasty moustache aside, he looks just like her. It's just...hehe!...peculiar..."

"Sad, isn't it," said Terry, grinning, "Stephanie Fleming. Such a promising career. Capsized by a dogging scandal."

"It's fucking funny, though," Bernice said.

"Tragic," Nick said, wheezing with laughter. "Jamie, I think Mal needs to see this."

"Aye. I'm fuckin' on it," Jamie said, as she hit the send button.

 

Mal was engaged in kissing Juliet when the mobile peeped. Immediately, the babies, tucked up in their cots in the spare room, started bawling again.

"Fuck's sake!" she snapped. "Who is it now?"

She clicked on the video, and watched the wildly bouncing car, and its occupants, and the watching crowd, and creased up with laughter. Wordlessly, tears streaming, she held it up for Juliet and Sam to see. Seconds later, the three of them had collapsed with laughter. And in the spare room, Caitlin and Alexander stopped crying, looked thoughtful, smiled widely, and started to chuckle.


	53. Chapter 53

Snow had started spiralling through the air by the time Olivia stepped onto the paving leading to the heated outdoor swimming pool. She squealed.

“Ooow! Jamie! I don’t like it!” she yelled.

“Keep goin’ love,” Jamie yelled back, sprinting ahead. “Just ye wait ‘til ye’re inside. Ye’ll love it.”

“OK…” Olivia said, wincing as her long, bare feet contacted the freezing concrete. If she wasn’t so in love, she would have been phoning for a taxi immediately, but as it was, she kept her eyes fixed on Jamie’s fantastic curves as the older woman stepped down into the deep end of the pool. Jamie arched her back, cat-like, against the side of the pool and smiled sensually up into the sky.

“Fuck…” Jamie sighed, “that’s…that’s just fuckin’ amazin’”…

Olivia glanced down and grinned at the sight of Jamie’s lush cleavage, palely glowing near the surface of sparkling water.

“Certainly is,” she murmured. “Hang on, I’ll see if the grass is any better…”

She stepped onto the crisp, frosty grass and winced again.

“Christ! That’s colder, if that’s even fucking possible!”

Jamie surveyed her with a mocking gaze.

“C’mon, sweet lass from Lincolnshire. Soft English girlie. Ye’re turnin’ fuckin’ blue out there. Wanna get pink wi’ me, love?” she said, batting her eyelashes at her.

Olivia had reached the edge of the pool. Shivering, she glanced around for the steps, and started as Jamie grabbed her ankle.

“Jamie, no! Don’t you dare! Don’t you…!” she yelled as Jamie pulled sharply.

She screamed, her scream punctuated by Jamie’s cackling, as the water rushed up to meet her and broke with a crash and a wave.

Meanwhile, miles away in Oxford Street, Christine and Moira were wandering around the first floor of John Lewis, trying on hats.

“Hmm,” Christine said, placing a black lace fascinator on the top of her dark curly hair. “What do you think? A bit young for the mother of the bride?”

Moira stood back, arms folded, eyes narrowed.

“Didnae know they were plannin’ on a fuckin’ Goth wedding. Na, sweetheart. It’s the sort of thing ye’d wear tae a fuckin’ funeral.”

“God, you’re right,” Christine murmured unhappily. “It would give out the wrong message, wouldn’t it? It’s supposed to be a happy occasion, though certain people might not think so…” she said, taking it off and placing it back on the rack.

“Ah, I meant tae ask ye. Has yer pig-headed dunce of an ex-husband come round tae the idea yet?”

“Stephen? I’ve – I’ve tried to talk to him, but he’s just blanked me.”

Moira gazed at her.

“Aye. Now, mae Hamish, he’d have loved it. Any excuse fer a party, an’ he’d be so proud o’ Jamie. Too bad he’ll never get tae see it, know what I’m sayin’, love?”

Christine’s lower lip trembled. Moira laid a hand on her arm.

“Sweetheart, tell ye what. Mae feet are fuckin’ aching now an’ I’ll bet yours are. Let’s go tae the fuckin’ Ritz fer tea, eh?”

“Good idea. I wonder what they’re up to, anyway?”

“Don’t worry, gal. Mae Jamie’ll look after her, alreet.”

 

Jamie and Olivia kissed as they sank beneath the water’s surface, hands running over each other’s slippery bodies. Finally, they resurfaced, gasping for breath.

“’And when they met,’ Jamie said, gasping and laughing, ‘it was moider!’”

“Where’s that from?” Olivia said, her chest heaving.

“Some daft American series,” Jamie said, grinning at her. “Warmed up, yet?”

“Yeah,” Olivia said, as Jamie pushed back her dripping hair. “God. I should be angry with you, but I’m just not.”

Jamie pouted at her.

“I’m just fuckin’ irresistible, that’s what,” she said, as she started unhooking the top of Olivia’s jade bikini.

“And you,” Olivia said, running her hand over Jamie’s black swimsuit, “are wearing far too many clothes. Nice of Juliet to let us borrow her country estate for the weekend, wasn’t it?”

“Aye. Should thank her somehow. Nice note, plate of biscuits, the chance to fuckin’ spank us both again…”

“Now you’re talking,” Olivia said, as the two of them started stripping each other in earnest, and silence descended once more as they kissed, and the snow swirled around them.


	54. Chapter 54

“Right!” Caz shrieked as she strode into the office waving a copy of Hello!, causing the occupants to jump in fright. “Fucking pay attention and stop Instagramming yer fuckin’ tits for once! Because I need to fucking kill every single one of ya!”

“Could we have some subtitles, please?” murmured Peta.

“Or, in your case, your cock, sweetheart,” Caz said, nodding towards Ed Messinger.

“Excuse me,” Steffi said, wearing her most practiced fake smile as she turned to face Caz, “I think you’ll find we were in the middle of a tone meeting, Caz. Can this wait, at all?”

Caz turned towards the flipchart, decorated all over with the wild hieroglyphics of Steffi’s latest campaign, and kicked it over. The others flinched as it hit the floor with a clatter. She marched forward and grabbed Steffi by the collar of her blouse, gathering the material between her fingers in a strong grip. She shoved the magazine in Steffi’s face.

“Who the fuck is that?!” Caz snapped.

“Caz…Caz, you’re pulling my hair…” Steffi whimpered.

“Ah, I think this may be going too far, now…” Peta said, torn between her hatred of Steffi and her desire to do the right thing.

“You fucking stay out of this. Do you even belong in this fucking party, fucking Saggy Tits?” Caz hissed at Peta. “You know that story ‘bout me keeping a fucking Swiss army knife up my arse for easy access to use on people who fucking annoy me?”

“No, I’m rather glad to say I don’t,” Peta said, folding her arms. “Is it true?”

“Not gonna fucking tell you, am I? Now,” Caz said, turning her attention back to Steffi. “You. Fucking Eco-Freako. Tell. Me. Who. That. Is.”

“That’s…that’s Malina Tucker, and her two infant children,” Steffi said, her face reddened.

“Correct! And who’s the fucking tweedy moon-faced speccy-four-eyes upper-class dyke on ‘er left?

“That’s…Lady Juliet Nicholson…” Steffi gasped. Caz’s grip on her collar was painfully tight.

“An’ who’s the handsome young man to ‘er right? Fuck me. Really is shaggable, that one. Look at the size of that fucking crotch. Hung like a fucking ox. What a fucking waste. I digress. Got any fucking idea who he fucking is?”

“Sam Cassidy. Her PA. Caz, please let go of me.”

Caz released her grip, sending Steffi stumbling forward and gasping. She shoved the magazine into Steffi’s hands.

“Read it,” she growled. Steffi cleared her throat.

“Um,” she started, “Ah. ‘Malina Tucker, feared and respected Director of Communications for Her Majesty’s Government, revealed a softer side to her character today. We caught up with her in her smart Camden home, where she chatted with us about her love for her beautiful babies, Caitlin and Alexander, and for the loves of her life, Lady Juliet Nicholson and her devoted PA Samuel Cassidy – “

Caz wrenched the magazine from Steffi’s hands and started furiously tearing at it.

“Can’t you get anything right!” she screamed. “We were supposed to get the tabloids to fucking lay into them! ‘Freedom’s gone too far,’ they were supposed to fucking say! ‘We can’t have fucking non-heterosexual representation anymore! Our children will be confused!’ Well, look what’s happened! We’ve got fucking Hello! Magazine celebrating the fucking fact that two poor fucking kiddies are being raised by three people gaily flying the fucking rainbow flag from the windows of Number Fucking 10!!”

In a fury, she hurled the remains of the magazine onto the carpet and started trampling it. Hairpins rained down onto the floor. Finally, out of breath, she stopped, lips curled back from her teeth in a snarl.

“YOU!” she shrieked, advancing on Philly, pointing with red talons extended. “You fucking well get some dirt on fucking Jamie and Olivia, right? I don’t care what you fucking do. Hack their interactive sex toys. Go through their fucking school reports. Just do it, or you’re fucking fired!”

“Umm…” Philly gulped.

“An’ that goes for fucking all of you! Get out of here! Or I’LL FIRE THE WHOLE FUCKING LOT OF YOU! FUCKING SAD-SACK CUNTS!!”

The others backed away from her, closing the door behind them. From within, they could hear wild screams and the sounds of furniture being overturned. Peta sidled up to Steffi.

“Ah…sorry about what just happened. Fancy a coffee?”

Steffi sniffed, trying to gather what remained of her dignity.

“Yeah, actually. Wouldn’t mind. But herbal tea, OK? None of this caffeine poison. And I don’t do dairy.”

“Fine. I’m having an expresso, myself,” Peta said, turning her eyes away from the carnage going on inside Steffi’s office. “I think I need one.”


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In memory of Mark E. Smith of The Fall (one of my favourite bands) who sadly passed away this week. The first set of lyrics Jamie sings are from the band's 1983 track 'Wings'. Also contains a bit of 'Cherry Bomb' from The Runaways, simply because it's a brilliant song and Jamie will always be a Scottish Joan Jett to me. No profit has been made from this fiction.

Jamie, clad in her black leather jacket, boots and knickers, stood in the bedroom, fingering the strings of her jet-black Rickenbacker guitar. It was battered and covered with stickers – The Buzzcocks, The Slits, The Fall, My Bloody Valentine and Motorhead, among various skull-and-crossbones and feminist symbols – and as far as she was concerned, it was the most beautiful thing she owned.

“Years since I’ve played this fuckin’ thing,” she muttered, testing the chords and tightening the bolts on its neck. Gradually, the twangs stopped squalling and became tuneful. “Remind me tae get a fuckin’ amp,” she murmured. It had been years since she’d played in a band, and the idea of getting back onstage was becoming more attractive with each pluck of the strings. It was time those fuckers at DoSAC saw another side to her.

Throwing her head back, she started playing a hypnotic, swirling riff, over and over again, eyes fixed on the rain streaming down the window pane in front of her.

“Day by day,” she intoned, “the moon gains on me…”

She started as a long arm snaked around her waist from behind, then grinned as a familiar pair of lips touched her neck.

“Hi there,” Olivia murmured in her ear. “My little punk rocker. What are you up to?”

“Just havin’ a bit of a play,” Jamie said. “Bit of a tribute to the fella in the sky, in the rain. Hope he’s gettin’ pished as we speak.”

“Oh, love,” Olivia said, hugging her tighter. “You OK?”

Jamie turned her head and kissed her.

“Never better,” she said, turning. She swung her arm and started playing another riff.

“Hello Daddy, hello Mom,  
I’m yer ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!” Jamie sang.

“Christ, Jamie, I didn’t know you could sing!”

Jamie winked at her.

“There’s loads ya don’t know about me, sweetheart! I like tae keep a sense of fuckin’ mystery, know what I mean?”

“I know this one! Let me…” Olivia said, making for the dressing table. She grabbed hold of a hairbrush and scampered over to Jamie’s side, holding it in front of them both like a microphone.

“Hello, world! I’m your wild girl!  
I’m your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!” they both sang, as Jamie played. 

Laughing, Jamie placed the guitar down on the bed and embraced Olivia.

“Not fuckin’ bad, sweetheart. We should go on tour together!” Jamie said, kissing her cheek.

“Oh, yeah. We’d take over the world!” Olivia yelled, punching the air.

“Like Pinky an’ the fuckin’ Brain, ya mean!” Jamie said.

“Uh, hang on, which one of us is which?”

“Aww, ya know I’m only jokin’, ma beautiful Stevie Nicks witchy lady,” Jamie said. 

The doorbell rang. Olivia rolled her eyes.

“Oh God, who the fuck’s that?”

It rang again. And again.

“Jesus. I’d better answer it, I suppose.” Olivia said. Jamie kissed her.

“I’m just gonna have a shower then, OK?”

“Hmmm. I’ll see off whoever it is, then I’ll join you, OK?” Olivia said. 

Jamie smacked her arse as she turned to go.

“Good girl!” she murmured, lasciviously.

Olivia grinned as she strode towards the door. She opened it to see a figure standing at the door, head bowed, a bunch of pink roses clenched in one hand.

“Dad…?” she breathed.

“Hello, luv,” her father said. “I think we need to talk.”


	56. Chapter 56

Olivia twirled a section of her dark curly hair around her right forefinger. 

"Well..." she started, "you'd better come in, then."

Her father followed her through the house to the sitting room in silence.

 

Olivia cleared her throat. It was so quiet in the room that she could hear her heart pounding.

"Is the tea OK?" she said.

Her father placed the cup down on the cat-shaped coaster.

"Not bad," he said. "Can I have some sugar in it though, please?"

"S-sorry," Olivia said, her face flushing. "It's been a long time."

 

"Nice place you've got here," he said, stirring. "Is it yours, or...?"

"Jamie's? It's hers. I sold my place and moved in with her."

"I see," said her father, taking hold of a Rich Tea biscuit from the open packet. "It's serious, then."

"Yeah, Dad. As I said, we're getting married."

Her father sighed as he dipped the biscuit in his tea, pulling it back before it started to crumble.

"I'm...well. Your Mum called me and bawled me out. That's what made me decide to come round to see you."

"Mum called you? Christ. How long has it been since you last spoke?"

"Can't remember precisely. Anyway. She told me I was being stubborn. That's something you get from me, luv. I guess you could say, she set me straight on a few things, if that's the right expression under the circumstances. I just, umm, I'm just trying to get my head around it. Around...around the whole you being gay thing."

Olivia closed her eyes in frustration.

"Dad. I've told you before. I'm not gay, I'm bisexual."

"So, you could just as easily marry a man, then? Why don't you do that?"

Bill chose that moment to launch herself onto the sofa and climb up onto Olivia's father's lap. He smiled as he looked down at her.

"Hello, you," he said, stroking her soft, tiny head as she started to purr. Olivia took a deep breath.

"OK. I could marry someone who was male, or nonbinary, in theory - " 

"Christ, love. Don't keep on confusing me with those modern terms - "

" - but the fact is, I love Jamie. And she loves me. And she's the best person I've ever met. And we're getting married."

"OK," her Dad said.

There was a long pause.

"Am I still invited to the wedding, then?" he said.

Olivia stood up, her eyes brimming.

"Dad..." she whispered.

She walked over and flung her arms around him. After he'd set the tea down on the coaster, he clasped her tightly.

"My beautiful girl," he said, softly. "All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, you know that?"

"Thank you..." Olivia breathed.

"She's got to be an improvement on your last boyfriend, anyway. That Ed bloody Messinger. Pardon my language, luv, but I always thought he was a right stuck-up twat."

Olivia started laughing.

"He was that. I never think about him now, though."

 

Meanwhile, Jamie, freshly showered and wrapped up in a black bathsheet towel, padded through the house in search of Olivia. Hearing her voice, she grinned, quietly opened the sitting room door, and flung her towel open, flashing her gorgeous curves at her. Her eyes went comically wide at the sight of her fiancee cuddling a man she'd never seen before. Olivia's eyes flashed in panic. Mouthing "fuck", Jamie ducked into the adjoining kitchen and closed the door. Hearing the click, Olivia's father sat up, his brows lowering in confusion.

"What was that?"

"That was Jamie," Olivia said. 

They both turned towards the door as Jamie emerged again, wearing a black dress she had just that second pulled out of the washing machine. She grinned at both of them.

"So sorry. Don't think I've had the pleasure. I'm Jamie," she said, extending her right hand.

Olivia's Dad stood up, extending his right hand.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Olivia's Dad. Call me Stephen."


End file.
